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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559589">The only hope for me is you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60'>Kalee60</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kalee's AU Extravaganza [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Somnophilia, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers not talking about his feelings (the usual clam Rogers), Top Steve Rogers, Worldbuilding, but honestly not really - but if you squint maybe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:22:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>51,395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers led a quiet life on a farm with his dog, Cap, a few animals and his greenhouse full of plants. In a world torn apart by humanity's past mistakes, remaking itself the best it could, solitude was simpler, if not a little lonely. It was safer.</p><p>But then he finds a broken and bloody man, half dead and abandoned before the biggest cluster storm of the year, and he has no choice but to take him home and tend his wounds.</p><p>Who was this mystery man shrouded in secrets, and why was Steve so drawn to him and his story?</p><p>When two strangers come together in a world full of uncertainty and change, both seeking comfort, both seeking meaning, would it all end in disaster or could they just maybe be each other's salvation?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kalee's AU Extravaganza [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Stucky Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi All,</p><p>Welcome to fic number 5 of my challenge - Post-Apocalyptic! So as usual, this is my twist on the trope - be aware - this is NOT a zombie apocalypse fic - more in line with ‘the way society found its feet after humanity broke the natural world’ and even though it’s missing flesh eating monsters - it definitely fits the criteria!</p><p>This fic was so clear in my mind - I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it, and even though there were parts that kicked my butt - in the end - at heart - this is a Stucky falling in love in a world that is not soft by all means, type of story.</p><p>Also as you read, I’ve tried to use premises that could work in a new world - but please just suspend a little disbelief occasionally and go for the ride in the world I created - this is a work of fiction, not at all meant to be science based :)</p><p>One last warning - Bucky is pretty banged up in this for the first part of the story - nothing too explicit - just be aware.</p><p>I hope to post every 2-3 days depending on RL - so I’ll stop blathering on and let you get to it!</p><p>Oh - this also covers off two of my bingo squares:</p><p>Bucky Barnes Bingo: Y2: Kill list</p><p>Stucky Bingo: B1: Looking after each other</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve adjusted the strap of the satchel, ensuring it was attached to his Harley properly, testing that the weight was distributed evenly on both sides. The last thing he needed was for his bike to topple over when taking a tight corner, smashing his last canister of biofuel, therefore killing his chance to get home before the storm hit. And Steve did not want to be stuck in town for two weeks while the cluster swept through. Although he loved his friends dearly, Steve was used to his own company and Sam and Nat would drive him nuts in a matter of days, hours even. It was all well and good to visit Turnpike for a night or two each month to trade his goods, catch up with friends, drink too much, laugh too much, but Steve already itched to get home, tend his garden, start restoring the books Sam had scavenged on his last supply run to New Boston. <em> If </em> Sam ever turned up with them, he'd been waiting twenty minutes already, all his business in town concluded early.</p>
<p>"Hurry up, Sam," Steve whispered to himself, while glancing up at the sky, the ever present afternoon tinge of light red making him squint. He tracked the swirling wind patterns, visible at that time of day, noting the speed and direction, he should have the few hours he needed to make it home before the storm reached them. He wondered, not the first time in his life, what true bright cerulean skies might have been like. Steve had seen pictures, of course he had, but his own two eyes had only ever known the muted light blue of the early morning before the usual tinge of red and orange took hold before midday. It's why all his herbs and plants grew in the east, soaking up what little daylight they could, but from the safety of his glasshouse, things didn't grow too well outdoors anymore. Except his algae pools, they seemed to excel.</p>
<p>"Steve, shit, you waited, thanks."</p>
<p>Turning towards the familiar voice, Steve watched as Sam trotted across the road, grin bright and holding a package in his arms. Books, the other passion Steve lived for. His first passion, growing herbs and plants and producing medicine for the healers, as his mother had taught him. Yet, Steve loved the feeling of accomplishment of restoring and reproducing books, novels, any written word, from disintegrating pages onto his parchments to preserve them for future generations. He’d just passed over <em> The Name of The Wind </em>, a fantasy novel to Wanda, who ran the school and community centre of sorts. Peter would flip his lid at having something new to read.</p>
<p>“What’s with the grin?” Steve asked, and carefully accepted Sam’s parcel. Unwrapping to see the title of the first book. “Really?”</p>
<p>Sam’s laugh, robust and loud, “hey, I find what I find. At least it wasn’t another copy of that <em> Fifty Shades </em> book. But you might get some pointers with that one at least.”</p>
<p>Feeling a smile creeping onto his face, Steve decided that he’d leave restoring <em> Dummies Guide to Flirting </em> until last. Though he did eye it curiously, wondering what nuggets of information he'd find while rewriting it, Steve very much lacked in the romance department. In fact, his department was a cavernous pit that echoed each time he yelled out hello.</p>
<p>“I don’t have an issue with flirting, just not a lot of people I want to flirt with around here.”</p>
<p>It was at that exact moment an obnoxious laugh came from the bar across the road and Brock Rumlow stepped out with a few of his ever present goons. Well, that’s what Steve called them. He noticed the tightening around Sam’s eyes, as he followed their progress down the street towards Pierce’s office, and Steve raised a brow.</p>
<p>“Yeah well, just don’t flirt with that guy again.”</p>
<p>“I was drunk, really drunk and to be fair he’d been in town about a week.” Steve argued, trying to forget the hurried hand job in the bar’s restroom he’d shared with the dark stranger years earlier, having no idea he was Pierce’s hired muscle.</p>
<p>Sam made a huffing noise out of his nose, “so there’s a rumour going around that a new guy showed up last night, Brock and his gang met up with him before he got too far into town. He’s not been seen since.”</p>
<p>Steve watched the group of four men disappear into Pierce’s office, two limping and one with an arm in a sling, but then Brock turned around, brand new black eye apparent and looked directly at Steve, the expression on his face not of the friendliest disposition. He’d not really taken the rejection Steve had given at his offer to catch up again well. Steve thought it was one of the best decisions he'd ever made, something about Brock in the light of day without the haze of six shots of turbine, felt off. A little - sketchy.</p>
<p>“You going out to investigate?” Steve asked as he secured the books carefully in his backpack, glancing up at Sam who was still looking down the street critically.</p>
<p>“Can’t, not with that cluster looming, it looks like a nasty one. I just hope… yeah, I just hope we don’t find another body that got ‘caught’ in a storm.”</p>
<p>Humming in response, Steve finished checking the bike over ready for the long trek home, knowing that although Sam wasn’t part of the towns’ security detail, he still cared a great deal about the settlement and its people, watched out for them, and Pierce and his band of merry men who’d appeared two years earlier had upset the balance. It was a pity, as Pierce ran the main supply company in town, he’d somehow made himself indispensable without anyone noticing and no one knew where he came from, he’d just turned up one day, set up shop and within a year was one of the most powerful men around Turnpike. Hell, around the territory.</p>
<p>“Look, I’ll keep an eye out for anything unusual on the way home. But there's not much out there through the Dead City, and I stick to the road, so will see what I can see, alright?”</p>
<p>“I’d appreciate it." Sam went from serious to a wide grin, clapping Steve on the back, "are you sure you don’t want to stay? Nat wants to play trivial pursuit, 80s pop culture again.”</p>
<p>“That game is ancient, and I have no idea what Mike and Mondy is, I told her that.”</p>
<p>Sam grinned, “Mork and Mindy and neither do I, but she seems to think it’s hilarious.”</p>
<p>Shaking his head as he laughed, Steve threw a leg over his bike, sitting heavily before starting it, kicking it into gear a second later, allowing the biofuel to inject, warm up. The rumble between his thighs, comforting and familiar. Steve was glad he was a big guy, able to handle the bike and the extra weight it carried when he was on supply runs.</p>
<p>“Take care out there, Nat and I will come visit once the cluster has passed, try and call us on the radio if you can get through.”</p>
<p>“Will do, and I’ll put a pot roast on when you come out.” Steve teased.</p>
<p>“Don’t do that to me man, you know I love your roasts. Now I’m going to be thinking about that all day, and I won’t be able to lie to Nat tonight and tell her the bean stew is delicious.”</p>
<p>Laughing, Steve pulled down his goggles, gave a wave and took off, passing through the streets at a slow pace, mindful of people and other bikes on the road. Cars were fairly rare around their parts, bikes much more common, easier to maintain and fix, and since fuel was an even rarer commodity, if you couldn’t make your own supply, the cost was too great for most families. Within the Turnpike town limits, push bikes were everywhere.</p>
<p>Steve was lucky though, his grandfather had been an engineer of sorts, and adapted an old Harley to use biofuel made from the algae pools he’d propagated. It made for excellent transport, and the fact he had a fuel supply was handy, though time consuming to cultivate, but Steve was just waiting for the day one of the many solar flares or electrical storms that passed through would affect it, rendering the engine useless. Machinery of all sorts struggled in the adverse weather, some equipment working perfectly, others spasmodically, and if something ever happened to his bike, well, living three hours out of town would mean it’d be quite the walk every month for supplies.</p>
<p>As soon as he left Tunrpike’s population behind, Steve increased his speed, not by a lot, but enough that the hot air ruffled his hair, and he was glad for his goggles, the harsh dust whipped up by the almost incessant wind, biting into the skin of his face.</p>
<p>The freeway leading into town was almost completely dirt now, the asphalt eroded until only patches remained, and Steve knew these roads well, slowing down where he needed to and weaving around holes and debris. It was second nature to lean into the corners, to make a game of it, keep his mind on the way forward and not the past devastation that surrounded him on all sides.</p>
<p>But remembering his promise to Sam, he started to glance either side as he rode, slowing his pace once more. Looking over to the right, Steve gazed at the large carcasses of buildings that covered the landscape, reaching towards the horizon, wondering for the millionth time what they used to be, and who they housed. His curiosity for the past never truly slaked, wanting to know how humanity went so wrong, how unmonitored fracking had damaged earth's core to such a degree it had been the catalyst to changing the ozone and life as it was, creating the mess they lived in now. The frustration at his forefathers and their generation still welled on occasion, generally when he was riding through the wastelands. </p>
<p>Scraggly bushes and plants tried their best to grow in the harsh environment, peeking out from between the rubble, twisted metal and junk. Nothing lived out there anymore, human or animal; everything scavenged generations ago, and the weather systems tended to have fault lines, following a pathway, and throughout this side of Turnpike, the constant barrage of acid rain and debris storms had made it a wasteland. Uninhabitable. Desolate.</p>
<p>Steve had heard from travellers that green lush forests still existed up north towards Canada, he’d never made the trek, not having a reason to, and he was skeptical of the tales anyway. But regardless if it were true or not, he couldn’t leave his farm, his life. It might not be much, but it was his. And what reason did he have to leave? There was nothing for him north.</p>
<p>Here he had security, a livelihood, friends and Cap, his scrappy little terrier, who would either be curled up asleep on the enclosed porch or waiting by the front gate for Steve to return. Steve glossed over the fact that he was missing one important part of his life, and that was someone to share it with. But finding someone to connect with, was just about as likely as a visit to the green forests of the north. Which was to say, not at all. </p>
<p>Turnpike had a large population, close to a hundred thousand permanent people, but it was first and foremost a trade town, with a transient populace. And yes he'd had many dalliances with passer-bys, but he'd not met anyone he wanted to spend time with, to invite back to his farm. Attempt to be happy with. Steve was not one for taking chances on strangers.</p>
<p>Steve was skirting the edge of Dead City, ready to exit out into the plains, having not spotted anything of note, when something unusual finally caught his eye. Having ridden that particular path more times than he could conceivably remember, it was rare for him to notice something out of place, and he knew without a doubt that he’d never seen a sparkle of such sharpness before. Not here, not in this abandoned area at any rate. Maybe Sam was right about the visitor. </p>
<p>Glancing up to the sky he watched the clouds, more menacing than they had been twenty minutes ago, sparks of lightning and electricity appearing in the density as it bore down on his location, and Steve was so close to the barren lands that marked the three quarter point in his journey, he knew he shouldn’t tarry. He’d make it home if he kept his current pace, <em> but </em> he reasoned, eyes not leaving the shiny object once, if he was quick, there was a little bit of leeway, and he'd promised Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He got as close as he could without damaging his bike tires on sharp objects and shut the engine down. The quiet pressed in on him, eerie, but then the wind picked up a second later, whistling between pylons and cement blocks, blowing hard against Steve’s bulk; so much so he staggered in place and grabbed his bike before it fell. Then the wind stopped dead, completely. </p>
<p>Knowing he didn’t have much time, Steve picked his way over debris and mounds of rubbish, eyes on the shiny silver object which was sitting on top of an old wrecked rusted out car. How it hadn’t flown off with the storm coming, he didn’t know.</p>
<p>As Steve got closer he could see a small splash of red and, frowning, he climbed over another pile of trash to come face to face with a painted crimson star on a long shining silver tube, half under a piece of rusted out metal.</p>
<p>“What the fuck?” Steve reached out and pushed, the weight behind it surprising, but then he looked at the object properly, removing the encumbrance. “Holy shit, it’s an arm…”</p>
<p>Steve picked it up, scrutinizing it, knowing it was definitely a prosthetic of some description, never having seen anything quite like it. It was heavy in his hand, but not overly, the fingers perfectly capable of movements, something whirring deep within it when he depressed the thumb. Steve glanced around quickly, where the hell had it come from? <em> Who </em> the hell did it come from, was probably the more pressing question, and where were they? Investigating the arm further he almost dropped it when he felt around the shoulder piece, a thick red, tacky substance coating his fingers. </p>
<p>Blood.</p>
<p>Christ had somebody ripped this off a person?</p>
<p>“Hello?” Steve yelled out immediately, the blood not fresh, but still, if there was somebody out there needing help, bleeding, he had to try and get to them before the storm hit. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to them if he couldn’t find them in time. Steve had about ten minutes before he too, could be too late to get to safety.</p>
<p>“Is anyone here? Do you need help?”</p>
<p>The whistling of the wind intensified as Steve quickly slung the arm over his shoulder and tucked it between his back and bag, and scrambled over debris calling out, willing for some form of answer to his pleas. Did the arm belong to the person who’d come to town the night before, had Brock and his <em> friends </em> done this to another human? Or maybe cyborgs actually did exist from the novels he’d read, or maybe Steve was overreacting and there was no one out there and he was running around looking under junk for a person long gone?</p>
<p>A crack of thunder shook the air, so close to the ground that he stumbled over his feet and snapped his eyes back to the bike. Thankful to see it still standing. Jesus, he had to go.</p>
<p>Calling out a few more times as lightning streaked the sky, he could scent sulphur in the air, and another crash of noise reverberated across the space, dirt and dust shaking from the pylons around him. Having no choice, else get caught himself; Steve began to pick his way back towards his bike when he heard something.</p>
<p>“Hello? Hello?” He tried again, and there. It was small, pitiful, not even a voice, but a scratch of <em> something </em>.</p>
<p>Holding still as best he could, Steve listened, honing in on any difference in sounds, and in an unusual moment of complete silence prior to the storm starting to rage in earnest, he heard an exhale, a whisper of breath.</p>
<p>Running as best he could towards where he hoped he’d sensed it, he came across something. No, <em> someone... </em> </p>
<p>Trying not to gag at the smell wafting from them, Steve dropped to his knees next to what he hoped was still a living body, though if they were, he wasn’t certain how long they’d remain in that state. The stench of blood and something more muscular, meatier infiltrated his nostrils and he pressed his fingers against what he hoped was an intact neck. He couldn’t tell under the blood and filth what he’d find. But his fingers touched solid skin, and although it was featherlight, he could feel a pulse. Erratic, not strong, but this person was alive.</p>
<p>Having no choice but to move them, to get them out, Steve hefted the body up onto his shoulder and a slew of liquid hit the ground, he didn’t look back to see if it was blood or something else, he had to go. Instinct rode him, he needed to get to his bike, secure them and get out of the wastelands, get back to his farm. Back to safe ground.</p>
<p>Steve knew the person he carried needed more medical attention and care he’d be able to offer from his meager stocks of medicines and his rudimentary knowledge of medical sciences, learned from his mother and books; having only used his basic skills on the few animals around his property since. But town was too far away and they’d be caught in the storm with no shelter, and no bike. The amount of biofuel he had left would only get them so far and with the extra weight, Steve was hoping like hell they’d even be able to make it to his farm. </p>
<p>If this person had one shot at living - it was with Steve. </p>
<p>A wave of overwhelming responsibility hit Steve for a second, of having another life in his hands. Sucking in a breath, he suddenly wished he’d not done so in such close contact with the body, but it cleared his mind of panic. The person was ripe, smelling like they’d not showered in months and the familiar tang of a festering wound was apparent under the usual filth smell.</p>
<p>Who was this person? Steve couldn’t even tell if it was a man or woman. Not having time to look at their face and even if he had, he’d hazard a guess it would look like the rest of them. Broken and bloody.</p>
<p>Getting back to the bike was easy. Figuring out how to transport them both safely was infinitely harder. </p>
<p>They clearly couldn’t hold on to Steve from behind, and he couldn’t carry them bridal style on the bike. In the end he quickly tethered his legs with theirs with some emergency rope he kept in his satchel, so at least the persons’ limbs wouldn’t get caught in the front wheel or drag along the ground, doing more damage, if that were possible. </p>
<p>Steve placed them at the front of the bike, so they leant back into Steve’s chest, arms bracketing either side of the body, secure as he could, then started the bike. Steve breathed through his mouth the whole time, yet that meant he had an acrid metallic taste on his tongue, it wasn’t pleasant. But he would never in a million lifetimes leave someone behind. It wasn’t his nature and never would be. It could quite possibly mean his downfall one day. But not that day.</p>
<p>“Hold on.” He spoke just for some levity, then put the bike in gear.</p>
<p>He took off with a roar, the storm clouds seemingly chasing them out of Dead City, and they burst into the open plains of the wasteland, the last leg on the way to Steve’s farm.</p>
<p>Steve knew he could have moved closer to Turnpike, but the Rogers farmstead had been in the family for generations, way before the fracking accident, and out of some strange place of pride, misguided probably, he didn’t want to give up part of his history, how it helped mould him into the man he was.</p>
<p>Though where he lived was the least of his worries at that moment, the storm was closing in, and his bike was slowed under the weight of two people. Steve eyed the fuel gage warily, concern growing with every tick it gave, every small downwards movement the arrow made.</p>
<p>His mind started to process the weight of the person who was slumped against him, raw and hurt, and he had no idea if all the jostling was making things worse, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. If the worst happened and Steve had to abandon the Harley and run the rest of the way with a dead weight over his shoulders, could he do it?</p>
<p>Steve didn’t know, but he started to make plans in his mind, trying to strategize where they might run out of fuel and what barren fields he could cut across to make the journey quicker. The tangle of nerves in his gut twisting and turning until he felt sick, or maybe that was the syrupy cloying smell of blood. Steve honestly didn’t know if they would make it in time.</p>
<p>The wind started to whip around them, buffeting the bike across the road and he almost lost control twice, managing to keep them upright by throwing a leg out, forgetting the person was tethered to him and Steve almost jumped in shock, believing for a second they’d thrust their leg out as well.</p>
<p>As he rode the bike to its full potential the sky lit up, jagged forks of lightning spearing the reddened sky that darkened with every mile they ate up, and Steve prayed that before it descended from the sky they’d be inside; not wanting to risk inhaling anything the debris laden cloud might consist of. Glancing again at his biofuel usage he steeled himself, they would make it, they had to. Steve hadn’t lived over thirty of his years in this life to be beaten by a storm.</p>
<p>It was as his home crested on the horizon that the bike gave up and Steve’s heart plummeted.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” He yelled into the sky, but not having time to lament his predicament, he deftly released himself from the body, positioned them back on the bike, and ran, <em> pushing </em> the Harley with the person layed across the seat, hoping that they wouldn’t fall as he panted, sweat forming almost immediately at the weight he was forcing forward. But he wasn’t going to leave the bike behind, not when he was so close.</p>
<p>Thunder and an electrical charge hit the ground nearby, sending a shiver up Steve’s spine and the hair on his arms rose, tingles dancing across his skin. <em> Shit </em>. He should leave the bike, but he couldn’t. It was his only transport. Steve, stubborn? - never.</p>
<p>Running blind as sweat ran in rivulets down his face after only twenty minutes, he heard a familiar sound, and relief quick and swift filled him.</p>
<p>“Cap!” a small white and tan fur ball flew out the perimeter of his land, barking and yapping at the sky, then at Steve as if he was an idiot, “yeah, yeah I know, I’m coming.”</p>
<p>Cap brought up the rear for the last half mile, making small noises until Steve had made it into the yard, and heaving in breaths he placed the bike in the shed next to the house. Then with what little energy he had left, he grabbed the dead weight off the seat and carried them up to the porch. Before he set even one foot down towards the front door, the storm hit.</p>
<p>Steve only just got the three of them inside, and managed to avoid slumping on the floor in exhaustion by sheer stubborn will alone, carefully dropping the body onto his couch, glad for the throw rug which would save the fabric from the onslaught of blood.</p>
<p>It was as he stood back, Cap sitting warily by his foot, a half whine escaping him as he shuffled forward for a sniff, that Steve noticed in the dim light, that the person he rescued appeared to be male.</p>
<p>A man who’d been beaten, ripped asunder and left for dead, who might actually <em> be </em> dead and potentially at Brock Rumlow’s hands. Who was this man, and what was he doing in Turnpike to have ended up in such a state?</p>
<p>Steve didn’t know, but he had work to do, a life to save.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi All,</p><p>What an amazing reception for Chapter One - I can’t thank you all enough for taking a chance on this! I’m so excited to take you on this journey of Steve and Bucky in a changed world, navigating the difficulties that inevitably befall them. It’s definitely a different tale for me to tell - and I’m so chuffed you are on board! Just another reminder that there is a little bit of Bucky’s injuries described in the first part of this - nothing too in depth, but our poor boy definitely took a beating.</p><p>So without holding you up again too long - enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve looked down at the body sprawled across his old sofa and took in a large breath, trying to work out exactly where to start, how to help, what to do. His mind was still in static, the rush of coming in from the storm, of barely making it back in time was riding him, the adrenaline spiking to make his heart race and he had to calm down, take a moment. Take stock of what was happening and what he could <em> actually </em> do.</p><p>He really didn’t want to cut the man out of his clothes, but Steve’s choices were limited, and he needed to see what damage had been done without moving him unnecessarily. The fact Steve had already yanked and jostled him enormously to get him out of the Dead City, meant that limiting further injury to his body was the best way forward. The shallow breathing from him was as comforting as it was concerning, gurgling every so often, and Steve was once more overwhelmed at the sheer carnage this man had suffered.</p><p>Most people would have died at the hands of such trauma, but a stubbornness seemed to cling to this man even unconscious as he were, Steve could sense it. But what was he fighting to live so desperately for? </p><p>Trying not to linger on what he might find once he started, then telling Cap to stay put as his curious nose was getting too close, Steve grabbed scissors, collected his meagre supplies and went to work.</p><p>First up he emptied the man’s pockets, finding an assortment of jerky, a well worn piece of folded parchment, a traders licence and a few other random bits and pieces. Steve didn’t stop to read anything, would look afterwards, once he’d assessed the injuries. Though as he kept finding knives, last count twelve, Steve couldn’t help but think of the assassins and superspies he’d read about in novels, not that those roles really existed anymore. It could just be that living out in the wilds and being a trader (apparently) meant he needed extra protection on the roads.</p><p>The ratty long-sleeved black - although it might have started white - t-shirt, stank with sweat, blood and the general unwashed scent that lingered on travellers. But when Steve cut it off, he couldn’t help let out a forlorn little noise, Cap whimpering from the corner in his bed, head resting in his paws, staring at Steve pleadingly.</p><p>“S’okay,” Steve placated, Cap falling silent, “he’s just banged up a bit, nothing serious.”</p><p>Why Steve was lying to his dog, he didn’t know.</p><p>“Alright, so he’s a little more on the severe side of banged up,” he amended, and saw in his peripheral Cap tilt his head, almost as if to question and tell Steve to go on, so he did, “so far I can see four puncture wounds, maybe caused by a nail or similar, I have no idea if that means he fell on something or was stabbed… oh fuck - that right there, that slice was caused by a blade, and by the looks of it, a while ago, maybe a week - it’s… yep, that’s where the festy smell is coming from.”</p><p>As Steve spoke, he ripped the ruined fabric away, the man’s muscled chest black, blue and yellowed in some places, and the dried blood from the wounds deep red and crusty. His ribs were unsurprisingly an array of colours from old to new bruises, and the way the right side was swollen, told Steve that’s why he was gurgling breaths, spying a small shard of metal sticking out. </p><p>“Damn it, nothing’s ever easy, is it?”</p><p>Exhaling through his teeth, he glanced at the man’s left arm where it ended just under the shoulder, and although it was clearly damaged, he could see where the prosthetic had fit, and the blood and cuts seemed more superficial than he’d first feared. At least he didn’t have to deal with an actual severed limb - yet.</p><p>“Okay, first things first, Cap, you ready?”</p><p>The small yap making Steve smile, made him feel like he had backup. The hum of the electric lights above him was almost drowned out by the wind and thunder that buffeted against the house as he cut the man’s pants away. A bang from outside startled him and for a split second he feared that his barn had somehow been left open and his few animals were exposed to the elements, but logic told him they wouldn’t be. He always secured everything tight before leaving, and Bruce knew when he was going into town for two nights. Even though Bruce lived over an hour away in the opposite direction on his greenhouse wheat farm, he checked in where he could, when Steve radioed him, also returning the favour when Bruce had to travel. Bruce had even come past the day before, if the big bag of flour on his porch was any indication.</p><p>“Oh shit,” Steve breathed out when he saw one knee twice the size of the other, a torrid bruise ripping across the muscles of his leg, it had been twisted, painfully. More cuts and wounds and what appeared to be boot marks littered the skin.</p><p>Finally, after the man was stripped of everything but his underwear, though Steve did a quick impassive check underneath to ensure nothing was damaged, Steve carefully raised him to his side to look at his back, only to find it too had been brutalized. The bruises and puffiness around his kidneys was enough to make Steve wince in compassion. </p><p>Steve finished his thorough inspection with the man's head.</p><p>“Looks like they did a number on you, bud,” Steve whispered, Cap’s nose suddenly sticking under his arm onto his knee, looking up at him. Smiling, Steve admonished him, “go on, back to your bed.”</p><p>Cap slowly trotted away, and flopped on his cushion with a huff as Steve took in the strangers face. The left eye was closed over, black, swollen and shiny, and through the scrapes and discolouration, Steve could tell he had a nice face with a strong jawline that was currently covered in an unkempt beard. His long dark hair was oily and straggly, though the colour could also be dirt, he might be a pristine blonde underneath. Steve’s attempts at running his fingers through the hair thwarted by tangles, but he did his best, not feeling any softness in the bone or obvious gaping wounds. And Steve knew that concussion was a real threat, also knowing he couldn’t do anything about that, it wasn’t like Steve could wake him up.</p><p>One thing was painfully clear straight away, the man needed a bath desperately, but all Steve could offer on that stormy day was a sponge and a bucket of hot water he’d heated up on the stove. Thankful the generator hadn’t been knocked out yet, it usually gave up on about day seven of a large cluster, meaning Steve had to suit up and go out and fix it in the elements, but he was worried if he had to leave this man alone now, he’d slip quietly into death.</p><p>“Alright, let’s get started,” Steve said, looking up as the lights flickered at the same time as a flash of lightning stole his vision for a moment. Cap made a small noise and Steve quickly looked over to find small brown eyes staring at him intensely. “Just the storm, Cap, you’re fine.”</p><p>Then Steve started to clean and suture.</p><p>Three painstaking hours later, Steve was exhausted. He’d used up almost his entire quota of water for the day from his tank, the grime and blood rendering it murky and full of particles he didn’t want to wipe over the battered body before him. Each bucket was put back into the grey-water tank ready to be recycled for the next day. There was no wastage on his farm. </p><p>Yet the hardest part for Steve was the removal of the shard from the man’s side, knowing at least one rib was fractured underneath his careful steady hands. He didn’t miss the small wounded exhale from the body as he spent time in that area, the shard thankfully not deep enough to penetrate the lung.</p><p>Sitting back on his haunches, then falling on to his ass, Steve stared at the stranger with a weird mixture of pride in his work and worry that he might not make it through the night. Cap skulked forward still unsure, and when Steve motioned him over, he bounced onto his lap, tail wagging, looking for affection. Steve’s fingers curled into Cap’s fur, feeling the rise and fall of his little quick dog breaths and knew he’d done all he could. Now he just had to wait.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After cleaning himself off as best he could without being able to use the shower, Steve walked back into the living room, the man hadn’t moved at all, but Steve thought his breathing was a little bit steadier. Although, when you wanted an outcome badly enough, your mind could play tricks, fool you into seeing things that weren’t there, but Steve was almost certain the man's chest seemed calmer, lacking the gurgle he’d had earlier.</p><p>Glancing over at the belongings he’d removed, and ignoring the fourteen knives he’d found on his person, Steve picked up the traders licence, flipping it open.</p><p>“James Barnes,” he mused, the name meaning nothing to him, even though he knew most of Turnpikes’ regular traders by name. “Where did you come from? The west? South?”</p><p>He received no answer, not unexpected really.</p><p>Steve then grasped the small piece of paper, it was well used, folded over three times precisely, the folds old, worn as if fingers had creased them in the same way for months, years even. Opening it carefully, Steve stared at it for the longest moment and began to reassess his initial thought that this man, James, might be an assassin.</p><p>It was a list. A list of names. </p><p>Seven names were written in a neat scrawl, five crossed off, scratched until almost all recognition of letters were gone, Steve making out a potential Robert, but that was about it. Two names remained uncrossed, two very familiar names.</p><p>Brock Rumlow and Alexander Pierce.</p><p>Dropping the paper, he looked over at the unconscious man he’d saved, that he’d hopefully clutched from the jaws of death, and started to wonder if he’d made a mistake - though something deep inside of Steve, his instincts, told him he’d done the right thing.</p><p>But what he’d found was undeniable.</p><p>Steve was fairly certain he’d stumbled upon a kill list.</p><p>Who the hell was this man? And should Steve have saved him?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Even though his discovery made Steve somewhat uneasy, he still gave James all the care he could, feeding him small amounts of soup and water over the course of days, cleaning him, monitoring him, changing the bedding, the bandages, and using his poultice mixes where he could. Steve noticed after a day or so that more and more colour returned to his cheeks. He’d moved James to the spare room, the space where he usually rewrote and bound books, the larger area allowing James the ability to spread out and also gave Steve and Cap back the use of their sofa.</p><p>It had been almost five days and Steve had taken to talking to James, telling him how the cluster was faring, how he’d checked on his two cows, chickens and the goat he’d been gifted by Pietro, Steve soon realising why he’d been given the animal. Ruby was bull headed and obstinate, Steve loved her dearly. But they were safe in the barn, had plenty of feed and water and Steve checked on them daily, by putting on the protective suit that would keep him safe from the storm.</p><p>He spoke about his algae pools and how he created energy and fuel for his generator and bike, and it was nice, nice to have another body in his house, even though he was a potential threat - maybe. Steve had even cleaned James’s prosthetic arm up as best he could, using soapy water to get rid of the blood and grime from the unusual metal, unsure what stronger agents would be safe. </p><p>The swelling of James’s eye had receded, the skin around it yellow and brown, healing well, as were all the other injuries. Though the knee was still unknown, would be until James stood up, Steve wouldn’t know if the elevation and the cold compress he’d used had done anything at all until then.</p><p>Even the slice on his stomach that had started to fester, now had the pink tinge of healing, the smell almost all gone and Steve thanked the stars for his ma’s many books on anatomy and medical procedures, but mostly for her handwritten folder of herbs and poultices that he’d made up with his greenhouse stock to alleviate pain and inflammation.</p><p>He wasn’t sure what smelt worse at first, the wound or the paste he’d slathered on it.</p><p>“Pal, you didn’t smell good when I found you and I don’t know if you smell any better today.” Steve teased as he did the morning cleanse and change of the bandages. He was checking James's eye, leaning in closely, staring at the array of colours, wondering who he was for the millionth time and lost track of his thoughts. Breath ghosted across his cheek when a deep groan erupted from James, startling Steve into jumping back, moving to a safe distance. </p><p>Waiting, Steve's heart beating erratically, throat thick with nerves, James didn’t wake up, just shifted a little. Steve released the breath he was holding. It was the most movement and noise James had made since Steve had brought him in.</p><p>It was either a very good sign or a very bad one.</p><p>For the rest of the morning Steve hovered, waiting, and after a while he gave up, James wasn’t about to miraculously open his eyes and tell Steve what had happened - what the list meant.</p><p>So instead, not wanting to be too far away, Steve turned to his work on rewriting the books Sam had given him.</p><p>It was strange at first working with his back to the bed, knowing there was a body there. He’d been on his own so long, just he and Cap, but Steve found he was rapidly getting used to another human, albeit a very quiet, unconscious human.</p><p>He often spent months in his restoration room, but it was different with James there, the pang of loneliness that nipped at his heels, ever present, was suddenly missing. </p><p>When he'd finished for the day, Steve cleaned up the space, wiping down the tweezers he used to turn pages with care and consideration of their fragility, then storing the ink made from red cabbages he grew specifically for this purpose, Steve found calm in the mundane routine. </p><p>“You know I’d not expected this; to be a recluse,” Steve said out loud as he looked at his latest novel critically, the cover art drying, the swirling words <em> The Thief </em> curled around a small castle he'd painstakingly painted earlier that week. “The keeper of books and knowledge of the past. I was trained as a healer. Well, that’s not entirely correct, I was taught how to prepare and make medicines. That’s how I make a living, these books are a hobby. Born from love of reading, escaping into other worlds. Anywhere but here really.”</p><p>Steve placed the book down carefully, and put the rest of his paints and pens away.</p><p>“I was expecting to move to a bigger settlement, offer my help, make a difference. Then ma… well, things changed. And here I am, out here alone. Don’t get me wrong I like it. But it’s just not what I’d planned.”</p><p>He glanced over his shoulder to see James had shifted a small amount in his sleep, his lank straggly hair, plastered to his skull, his cheeks pinker, yet the discolouration of bruises were still littered down one side onto his slender neck. Steve looked away quickly, eyes caught hovering too long again. He’d found himself staring at the stranger more and more as the days passed. James’s face became as familiar as his own. It was a nice face. </p><p>A <em> very </em> nice face.</p><p>Suddenly a large almost deafening crash reverberated around the room and Steve jumped up, sparing another quick look at James, and seeing him still motionless, he ran for his suit, the lights flickering until they went out completely. Cap’s bark came from the laundry where he’d been eating, and suddenly Steve had his little companion by his side.</p><p>“Generator. Knew it would go again. Every damn storm, it always does.” Steve got ready quickly, climbing into his suit was second nature by that stage. Leaving Cap inside he slid out onto his enclosed porch, staring out into the bleakness that was the world, getting himself prepared to brave the storm and find his way in the murk to the generator.</p><p>The cluster was one of the biggest he’d ever seen, darkening the entire sky to almost an eerie black-red, flashes of electricity and balls of energy floated around through a debris cloud so large it surrounded him on every side. The ever present rumble of what he called thunder - but wasn’t quite the same as the rarer traditional storms that came through once a year, ground against other pockets of air - shaking the ground like an earthquake. There was no rain in this one and even if there was, it was generally too filthy to do any good around the farm, but his grey water stash usually filtered it through after a month or two. Thankfully the acid rain storms seemed to congregate around the Dead City not out where Steve lived. As a gust of wind slammed across in front of him, Steve was surprised that the power hadn’t been knocked out earlier.</p><p>Yet when he got outside, wind pummeling into him so hard he had to brace himself, concerned at the sheer strength behind the storm, Steve saw it was going to be a little more complicated than he’d first thought. He wouldn't just be able to restart the machine due to an electrical surge as he'd hoped. A large bundle of debris had slammed into the generator, and he had no idea of the damage, or whether he could even fix it, if it were broken completely, smashed. It was just his damn luck to have to deal with the heavy mess now.</p><p>Steve spent hours moving the junk off, flinging it aside, hoping it wouldn’t come back and slice him in two from large gusts of wind, noting that although the generator had stopped, it seemed that the debris was a side effect, not the cause. The gears had unhinged and a belt needed replacing, and Steve at least knew how to combat that.</p><p>By the time he made it back inside, sweat dripping down his forehead, smelling rank from the hard physical labour, the lights were back on, but Cap was nowhere to be seen. He was always waiting for Steve to come inside. Without fail.</p><p>“Cap?” He yelled once he’d managed to rip the suit off, peeling it from his sweaty body, noting how his t-shirt clung to him wetly, he needed a shower. Hearing a small bark, he followed the sound to the spare room.</p><p>He expected to find Cap sitting on the end of the bed like usual, he did not expect to find him almost smothering James, sitting on his chest. And when Steve went to admonish him, tell him to get off, he definitely did not expect to see a hand tangled up in Caps’ soft fur, patting gently.</p><p>The last thing to shock Steve was locking eyes with the stormy blue-grey ones of his patient, nor to have his first thought be how pretty they were, how depthless and uneasy they looked.</p><p>“Who the hell are you?” A crackling underused deep voice asked him with an edge. And Steve jumped, the unexpectedness of James speaking making him flush red. Thankfully he was still hot from working on the generator and the colour that was sure to be staining his cheeks wouldn’t be obvious. Though the way James’s eyes were directed on him, then lowered to his soaked t-shirt, before capturing his gaze again, all the time assessing; Steve had a feeling nothing escaped his notice.</p><p>“Fuck. Jesus you scared me.” Steve said.</p><p>The bare hint of an amused smile almost came through, but mostly confusion and distrust shone out and Steve couldn’t really blame him. The man had woken up in a stranger's house, in a bed with a cute as anything puppy on his chest, all wounds bandaged. Surely through deduction that should have told a positive story. But still, Steve gave what he hoped was a friendly smile.</p><p>“Oh, right. I’m Steve. Good to see you finally awake, James.”</p><p>If someone had asked Steve what reaction he could expect from using James’s name, it wouldn’t have been the one he got. </p><p>“That's not my name.” The response, clipped and annoyed. "Do I know you?"</p><p>The sharp bark of laughter unexpected and Steve realised belatedly it came from him, slightly high and shocked. <em> Jesus </em>, confronted with a deep voice and eyes made from the very storm that rolled around them and he was losing his mind.</p><p>“Err, no you don't. Sorry, I just saw…” he trailed off when those mesmerising eyes narrowed and it took everything in his power not to look away.</p><p>The deep sigh and wince from James when he tried to move up in bed made Steve take a hesitant step forward to help, then back off immediately when James stiffened up. Halting, Steve held out his hands placating and moved away until he was up against his desk, leaning a hip on it, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. It was hard to do as Steve was quite big, massive in fact, he’d always been tall, but farm work gave him more muscles than his town counterparts. He slumped a little, though he wasn’t certain it did anything except make his posture look poor.</p><p>Steve was trying not to question why his instinct was to make James feel at ease, when clearly this man held some kind of violence in his past, might use that violence against him. But the way his fingers clung to Cap, the way Caps’ little wet nose pressed up underneath James’s chin, went a long way for Steve’s trust to be built. Cap was a great judge of character.</p><p>“I see you’ve met Cap,” Steve tried again and felt a flutter of calm when James looked down, his fingers smoothing over Caps’ fur softly. “He likes scratches behind the ear if you’re looking to make friends. Although it seems you’re doing a good job of that already.” </p><p>James was quiet for a long time, and Steve was about to give up, go get some soup, see if James was hungry, when he was surprised by the small cough followed by quite a few words, “I mean it is, my name, James, technically. Just no one calls me that.”</p><p>“Huh,” Steve said after a minute, when James, or whatever his name was, hadn’t said any more.</p><p>“Call me Bucky,” he finally admitted, but it was a long time coming and Steve realised that the bravado was not completely feigned, but a lot of it was. James, <em> Bucky </em>, was at Steve’s mercy, he was weak, probably only had just enough energy to be petting Cap, and he had no idea who Steve was, what his intentions were. His last memories could have been receiving the beating of his life, almost the beating of his death. He was trying to look stronger than he was and that made something in Steve loosen, relax and long to comfort. An odd notion to have of a stranger.</p><p>"Bucky, right..." Steve trailed off and realised he needed to at least say something about how he came to be at Steve's, "So I found you, in the Dead City on my way home from Turnpike. Is that where you were headed? Turnpike?"</p><p>Bucky didn't speak, just continued to pat Cap without acknowledging Steve's question. He took in a breath, not surprised really.</p><p>"I uh, tried to patch you up as best I could, but I couldn't take you back into town, would have got caught in the cluster, hence why you're here." Steve suddenly had an idea, something that might make Bucky relax a little, "No one knows I found you, just me."</p><p>Bucky's slate grey eyes immediately fixed on his intently, a million questions burning through them, but he continued to stay silent, wary and all Steve got from him was a ragged inhale and a cough.</p><p>“You thirsty?” Steve tried and the lick of lips caught his attention, the soft glisten of spit over the pinkness. Bucky coughed again and Steve’s eyes snapped up to land on Bucky’s. Steve had been alone far too long if his reaction to Bucky merely licking his lips was any indication. “I’ll get you some water.”</p><p>He disappeared into the kitchen, berating himself, appalled that his attention had been so easily snagged on a pair of lips. Maybe he should have sought out some company on his last trip to Turnpike, found solace in the arms of a stranger. Except for some reason he kept thinking about <em> his </em> stranger. Thinking was clearly not helpful.</p><p>Returning with a full glass of water, Steve remained hovering at the end of the bed, not wanting to get too close, unsure if standing nearer would unnerve Bucky. But a small huff and Bucky gesturing for the water eased his befuddlement.</p><p>Though it wasn’t that easy and Steve ended up having to heave Bucky up, raising his head so he could sip from the glass. And if Bucky was shocked at the realisation that his arm was missing, he didn’t show it. Steve didn’t want to hold the glass for him, but in the end he had to; Bucky looked uncomfortable the whole time and Steve understood why, it wouldn’t be a great situation to find yourself in. But Steve was trying to show by his actions he didn't mean any harm.</p><p>As their gazes clashed while Steve leant over him, he sucked in a breath before backing up and mumbled something about soup, practically running from the room. There was nothing for it, he had to keep busy.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A few hours later, with only a handful of words spoken between them, Steve let Bucky drift off to sleep, even though he fought it, stating he’d been asleep for far too long. But he was out like a light almost straight away. This left Steve time to get a few things together, some old clothes that Bucky would fit into, put some stew on and boil the kettle for a herbal tea made with fresh herbs. By the time he heard a curse and a thump an hour later, Steve raced into the spare room to find Bucky half on the ground, one knee down and a pained expression on his face.</p><p>“Fucking hell in a handbasket.”</p><p>“You should have called out.” Steve admonished, and the glare he received for his words was icy. Swallowing, he moved forward to help, which Bucky begrudgingly allowed, using his right hand in Steve’s to pull himself back up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed.</p><p>“I just wanted the bathroom, but my knee…” he gestured down to the still partially swollen mess.</p><p>“I think that might take a few weeks to heal, do you remem -”</p><p>“ - I need the bathroom.” Bucky cut him off, on purpose it seemed. “Please.”</p><p>It was the please tacked on that made Steve reach out and help Bucky to his feet properly, and without thought, he grasped Bucky around the waist, who then placed his right arm about Steve's neck and they hobbled to the bathroom.</p><p>“If you’re up for it, I’ve put some clothes and a towel, there’s also shaving stuff in there if you want a shower. I have plenty of water in the tank still.”</p><p>The breathless noise from Bucky, strange, until he realised it was a huff of amusement and he glanced at the man he held tight against him as they walked down the hall. Trying to remember the last time he’d be so close to a body, it was telling he couldn’t actually recall.<br/>“You trying to say I stink?”</p><p>And it was the small spark of something other than distrust in his countenance that made Steve snort. “I was going to be polite, but yeah, pal, you reek.”</p><p>Steve enjoyed the husky laugh-cough, and left Bucky in the bathroom, telling him he’d be down the hall and to call out if he needed any help.</p><p>“I think I’ve got it,” Bucky replied and shut the door with a snick, Steve walking down the hall only a short way, waiting to hear if Bucky called out. He didn’t.</p><p>“Come on, Cap,” he beckoned, but Cap sat by the bathroom door, looking at it, sniffing under the gap, searching for his new friend who’d disappeared. Steve smiled, “Traitor.”</p><p>But the little patter of feet soon followed Steve when Cap realised he was going to the kitchen, no doubt hoping for a snack.</p><p>The whole time Steve prepared dinner, quickly whipping up a loaf of bread from his starter mix, he kept an ear out for movement, a cry for help, but he heard nothing.</p><p>Almost an hour and a half and a lot of pacing, <em> no </em>, just walking around checking the perimeter, later, he heard the bathroom door open.</p><p>Getting up from the sofa he walked towards the hall, and saw Bucky hold out his hand to grab the wall, limping and clearly exhausted. Steve rushed over, but stopped short.</p><p>“Can I help? I'm sorry I should have asked before," he said evenly, and the look of shock in Bucky’s eyes, interesting. Like he wasn’t used to someone asking permission to touch him, for someone to be so polite, like people just looked at his lost arm and assumed he’d need assistance. He nodded his head letting out a gruff noise of assent.</p><p>Steve immediately reached out, and wrapped his arm around Bucky, taking the weight from his knee, yet still aware that the side where the shard was embedded would be tender for a while as well. But all of these worries became secondary when Steve inhaled deeply for the first time. Smelling his own scent, his own homemade goats’ soap with a hint of honey on Bucky’s skin made his brain white out. Bucky was in <em> his </em> clothes, smelling like him and the sheer wave of possessiveness that soaked him to the core was unexpected and he stumbled.</p><p>“Jeez, I’m not that heavy,” Bucky said with a lilt in his voice, he was attempting to joke.</p><p>“Sorry,” Steve managed, trying to get his thoughts together, act like an adult and not a horny teenager, finally making it to the sofa where he deposited Bucky down gently, only to find him watching Steve curiously as he backed up. And that’s when he looked at Bucky properly in the light.</p><p>His hair was washed, partially dried, soft and shiny, he’d trimmed his beard until it was neat, close against his face and his skin was pink and fresh, scrubbed to within an inch of its life and Steve felt like he’d been punched in the gut, the quiver that ran through his body at seeing Bucky clean and fully awake something he’d not anticipated.</p><p>Cap jumped up, stealing Bucky’s attention, and he turned to the little wiggling body willingly. Steve had never been jealous of an animal before, but he felt the prickle of it slide up his spine, suddenly wanting Bucky’s attention, needing all of it. The smack of all consuming attraction for the man sitting on his couch woke up a deep seated want, a desire Steve had not felt for years. The desire to own someone, to take them, to give pleasure.</p><p>This was not good.</p><p>Steve was stuck in a storm for who knew how long, with a stranger, a man who had what he thought was a bonafide kill list, who could be a terrible threat. And by god, did Steve want him.</p><p>Complicated didn’t even start to cover it.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I may have also listened to MCRs 'Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys' album a hell of a lot during the writing of this...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hi all,</p><p>Well here we are - time for a deeper look into life on Steve's farm during this crazy cluster. I hope you enjoy a slight change in pace, but never fear - Cap still has a starring role (I swear that dog is more popular than our boys!)</p><p>Also, thanks for such a brilliant response to the first two chapters, honestly I'm thrilled you're all enjoying it and the mystery that surrounds Bucky. </p><p>And I keep forgetting to thank my amazing bestie <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue"> darter_blue</a> who without her help and guidance - well, this fic would not exist in this form!</p>
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    <p>The storm didn't dissipate at all over the next day or two, if anything, the wind howled around Steve's farmhouse with more intent, trying to find a way in, a crack in the facade to barrel through and tear the structure apart. But the house had been standing for generations, from before the fracking accident and beyond and wasn't about to succumb to a cluster storm, even one so rough and turbulent. </p><p>The house was a Rogers family legacy, passed down to the next in line and although farming wasn't what it used to be, Steve's great grandfather and grandmother had adapted the farm to ensure its longevity. Not to farm it's lands, but to keep the next generation of Rogers safe. The additions to the house ingenious and Steve tried not to wonder if he would be the last of his lineage living there, he didn't like his chances of finding love, building a family.</p><p>A cough startled him and he looked up from the food he was preparing to find Bucky wincing, holding his side as he walked gingerly into the kitchen. He'd been sleeping a lot, conserving and building his strength, Steve only managing to have bare minimal conversations with him. The brunette was clearly still wary, but always polite, thankful - quiet. Yet Steve didn’t mistake his silence as anything but gathering information, Bucky was keen eyed and took in more about his surroundings than even Steve probably realised.</p><p>Although when Bucky came to sit at the kitchen table and Steve handed over the metal arm, the look of utter relief and gratitude on his face made Steve gulp tightly.</p><p>"<em> Fuck </em>… uh, thanks, that’s... I mean… I can't believe you found it." Bucky said wonderingly, tipping the arm this way and that, looking it over, his fingers testing the joints, frowning a little when they didn't immediately bend under the pressure.</p><p>It was only when Bucky's blue eyes landed back on Steve that he realised he'd not responded at all, too busy watching the unguarded happiness on Bucky's face and hearing him speak an actual sentence that radiated warmth. Bucky’s pleased voice was deep, rich, and Steve was in more than a little bit of trouble, especially if Bucky became inclined to use it more often around him.</p><p>Turning to stir the food, Steve averted his face as if in deep thought about something important - which he was, trying to work out if Bucky's eyes were more blue than grey in the artificial kitchen light. He took a breath and answered.</p><p>"Actually it's the first thing I saw. If Br… if it hadn't been left on top of the rusted out car, I wouldn't have had reason to stop," Steve stumbled over Brock's name, not wanting to say it, to bring attention to the fact he knew a name off Bucky's list, nor the fact Steve was specifically looking for a body at Sam’s behest. "It gleamed under a flash of lightning. I'm sorry I didn't clean it properly, wasn't sure what I could use safely, didn’t want to damage it further."</p><p>Bucky looked thoughtfully at Steve, appearing to be halfway grateful and unsure by his words, "I'll need some form of lubricant if you've got anything, doesn't have to be machine grade. Just something so I can get the joints moving freely."</p><p>Steve jerked the spoon at the words, food splattering onto the bench, and sighed at the mess before serving up their dinner, not really wanting to just hand over the lubricant he made from cornstarch and water, and explain <em> why </em> he already had a batch prepared. Obviously it was handy for many things, but Steve was alone a lot, and had needs like everyone else. He knew it would be immediately obvious what he used it for. And why did that matter - if Bucky knew he jerked off? </p><p>"I'm sure I can whip up something you can use," he replied, the knowledge of two large bottles next to his bed burning a hole in his conscience. "Hope you don't mind stew."</p><p>"S'fine, better than," Bucky said and inhaled deeply when Steve placed it before him, a thick piece of warm bread with fresh butter next to it. "Honestly I've not eaten food this good in… well, a while."</p><p>Steve ached to ask Bucky when he last ate a big meal, who he was, if he really <em> was </em> a trader and the one thing that itched constantly at the base of Steve’s brain to question - what the hell did that list of names mean? But he didn't, not when they had an uneasy peace between them, each slowly getting a feel for the other.</p><p>A moment later Steve's spoon clattered to his bowl when Bucky took his first bite of stew, letting out a deep, low, apprecaitive moan. Apologising quickly when Bucky startled and looked up shocked at the noise, Steve gritted his teeth against how it made his stomach quiver, really not needing to hear those noises from the man who, after only a few days of being conscious, was already disturbing Steve’s peace of mind. He’d even jerked off the night before for the first time since Bucky had arrived, so technically he only had one and a half bottles of lube left now. Steve was trying to fool himself into believing his raw need to orgasm didn’t have anything to do with the brunette sitting in front of him. </p><p>“Is this beef?” Bucky asked, as Steve tried to cover his reaction to the sinfully good noise, one that would replay in his mind later as he used the other half of the bottle.</p><p>Nodding, Steve picked up his spoon again and shoved another large bite of stew into his mouth, trying not to ask Bucky to moan again, just to see if he reacted the same way. He had a feeling he would.</p><p>“No I’m serious, actual beef from an actual cow?” Bucky pressed before taking another bite, and <em> fucking hell </em>, Steve might be making an extra large batch of lube sooner than he thought if those moans were going to be a staple at the dinner table.</p><p>“Not sure where you usually source your beef from, champ. But yes, an <em> actual </em> cow.”</p><p>The glare he received wasn't threatening but it felt that way, because Steve’s gaze found itself dropping to Bucky’s lips as another spoonful disappeared into his mouth. God damn it, eating was <em>not </em>sexy. Why did he suddenly feel attacked?</p><p>“Pietro, he’s got a cattle farm an hour or so north, we trade.” He managed to strangle out.</p><p>“There's cattle out here?”</p><p>Steve chuckled, “yeah, it took time, a lot of work and adapting his farm to be able to do so, and honestly, It’s more of a dairy farm, but on occasion he’ll bring me a side of beef, and I’ll set him up with biofuel and medicines.”</p><p>Bucky’s eyebrows were so high they’d disappeared under the sweep of hair that kept falling in his eyes. Steve’s fingers itched to tuck the soft looking strands behind his ears. </p><p>His grip tightened on the spoon.</p><p>“So you <em> made </em> that stinky crap that’s on my chest?”</p><p>“Are you complaining that I saved your life?” Steve teased without thinking, only to watch a half tilt appear on Bucky’s mouth, making Steve look down at his plate again quickly, feigning interest in the fluffiness of his bread - he really did do a good job baking that day - and nope, it was not distracting enough. The small soft smile burned itself into his retinas, his very brain. <em> Shit. </em></p><p>“No. Not complaining...” Bucky trailed off, “Thanks for, well… thanks.”</p><p>The serious tone meant that Steve was unable to stop his eyes from rising and meeting Bucky’s.</p><p>“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Steve tried, and wasn’t surprised when Bucky’s mouth formed a thin line, gaze dropping, and the next three bites did not induce moaning. <em> Guess not. </em></p><p>“How long will this cluster last?” Bucky asked tightly, clearly wanting to change the subject. Steve thought about pushing for an answer, but only for a moment, deciding since they only had each other for the foreseeable future, with Cap as a furry buffer, it was best not to poke too hard.</p><p>“Hard to tell, it’s been almost a week, maybe another day or so, could be longer. Usually I’d try to get radio reports, there’s a couple of channels I listen out for, one is scarily accurate on storm patterns and the other is a guy who does real news, reports what’s happening around the Territories, really reliable and unbiased news.” Steve took another bite of his bread and pointed out, “but this storm is unusual in its intensity and I haven’t been able to get anything yet. But I’ll keep trying.”</p><p>“Right, so it sounds like these clusters you get are about the same as we get down south. And yeah I’ve heard of that guy, Furry or something?” Bucky mused, wiping the bread through his bowl to mop up the sauce.</p><p>“Pretty sure it’s Fury, I think,” Steve hummed and cleared up their plates once they’d finished, thinking on his words; Bucky letting slip that he was from the south was something new, a piece to the puzzle. </p><p>And as Steve watched Bucky’s eyes widen when a piece of fresh lemon cake was placed before him (Steve’s baking that day, on point), the sheer unfettered joy at having something sweet and unexpected blatantly apparent, Steve knew he’d have to spend time and tease information out piece by piece. Yet Steve was nothing if not patient. He’d find out who James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was. Eventually.</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p>Something Steve <em> did </em> find out about Bucky almost straight away, was that he was a hard worker. As soon as he felt stronger, though he still limped heavily with a wince, Bucky cleaned, tidied up after himself and helped with food preparation and cleaning. Steve, for the first time since his ma passed, had someone else in his home who could cook, and even though it was basic fare, it was gratifying to come inside after working all day to a meal on the table. Even more surprising was to have Bucky waiting to eat with him, a fed and sated Cap lying on the floor, tail wagging lazing against the wood, thumping quicker when Steve bent down to pat him quickly before eating. It was novel, and something he most definitely could not afford to get used to.</p><p>Steve spent most of his days out on the farm checking in on the animals, working on his algae pools and the output for making more biofuel, which was always slow going during a cluster, but still, he had lots of work to do. The majority of his time though was spent in the greenhouse, tending his herbs and plants, then in the small room next to it, his makeshift lab, where he produced his medicines. And that’s where Bucky found him one afternoon, Cap trotting in faithfully on his heels. Steve tried not to take offense that Cap was so drawn to the new person in the house, but he couldn’t blame his pup - Steve kind of was as well.</p><p>The storm raged around them, lashing and pounding at the structure, Steve watching one of the only glass panels in the sea of polycarbonate looking wobbly in its precarious place at the top right hand corner of the roof, knowing he’d have to fix it soon. Maybe he'd attempt it the next day, it was already getting too late and he’d have to go outside to repair it. It should hold.</p><p>“Is this safe?” Bucky asked, startling him from cutting the aloe plants, and Steve turned on his haunches, to stare up as Bucky limped over with two steaming mugs. The smell of herbal tea infiltrated his nostrils and he stood up gratefully to accept the cup Bucky held out.</p><p>“What? The herbs and plants?” Steve questioned, “Nothing in here can poison you by smell alone, just wash your hands if you touch and don’t eat anything unless I tell you it’s safe.”</p><p>Bucky’s smile grew as he gestured up at the roof, Steve not looking where the fingers were pointed, too busy staring at the wonderful stretch of Bucky’s lips. He was stunning when he smiled, and Steve got lost in it, every, single, time. “I mean the roof has glass panels doesn't it, and there’s a huge debris cluster out there - how has it not smashed yet?”</p><p>“Oh,” Steve felt himself flush, it was a valid question, he’d been too distracted by Bucky’s presence in his sanctuary, followed by an unexpected smile, to think straight. He watched as Bucky blew steam across his drink before taking a sip, licking his lips as he lowered the cup and Steve jerked around to point up at one spot. And although it was hard to see in the gloom and blanketing darkness with only flashes of light from outside, paired with Steve's small hurricane lamp illuminating the area they stood in - it turned into quite a beautiful scene, in a brutal way.</p><p>“If you look up at that spot, you might be able to see what I’ve done in the next flash, just over there.”</p><p>“Which spot?” Bucky asked and Steve pointed again, his stomach swooping when Bucky sidled up next to him, completely in his space until Steve could feel the heat - not only from Bucky’s cup but also his body pressing on his forearm. His brain flatlined. Bucky was close. Very close.</p><p>Steve’s arm wavered as he gestured to one small gap where he’d tethered his protective netting to the house, and Bucky leaned further into him, squinting while looking up; Cap sniffing the plants by their feet. Was Bucky having issues with his eyes since the attack? Because surely he wouldn’t be wanting… no, it didn’t bear thinking about. Steve was not getting attached to an assassin. Well, a trader assassin. A trader. A James Barnes.</p><p>“So there’s huge swathes of suspended netting that hangs over the entire exterior, pushed out from the house a few metres by metal rods, so the net itself doesn’t sit right up against the structure,” Steve swallowed tightly, Bucky’s arm now pressed firmly against his own, and how could that one point of contact make it impossible to squeeze words out of his throat? “It’s a tough material, almost impossible to rip and most debris bounces off. Big pieces of metal and junk all get deflected, some get caught and I just remove it when the cluster's gone, but I mean I haven’t had a car try to crash through, so there’s always a first.”</p><p>Steve liked Bucky’s huff of laughter a little too much. Dropping his arm, Steve glanced over at Bucky, who’d not moved; noticing too late how close that simple movement put their faces. He’d only have to lean forward a bare inch and their lips would meet.</p><p>“You’ve thought of everything haven’t you?” Bucky stated, taking a step back, but not before he pressed his arm into Steve again, as if off balance. He limped over to the small garden bench and fell onto it, wincing again before adjusting his leg. Steve meanwhile was trying to collect his thoughts. Had Bucky deliberately touched him? And if so, what did it mean?</p><p>“When the storms finished, I’ll show you around the farm properly. But I can’t take all the credit for the neat stuff you’ll see, that honour goes to my grandmother, and actually a lot of what you’ll find around here she and my ma put together.”</p><p>Bucky raised his eyebrows, “Really? That's brilliant, you’ve got yourself a nice haven out here, Steve. I'm jealous to be honest.” Bucky stopped, then caught Steve’s eye again, “If you have time now, I'd love to know what keeps you busy, what you do to pass your days?” And maybe it was the way Bucky said his name, like silk, that the interest in Steve’s day appeared genuine paired with the small open smile on his face was what made Steve so susceptible to answering his questions.</p><p>They spent the next few hours as Steve worked in the greenhouse speaking about the farm, his animals, the way he grew plants and herbs to create medicine for Turnpike and travellers and how he’d found Cap, an abandoned puppy and saved him from the streets. Then they got onto the subject of how he collected grey water from the house to recycle, so he always had fresh water and the way the algae pools used it to create energy so he could manufacture fuel from the oils for the house and his bike. </p><p>“So hang on, back to the algae pools for a second. They make energy from everything <em> including </em> the toilet?” Bucky asked with a huff of laughter, and Steve couldn’t help himself wanting to hear the sound again. It was suddenly an addiction.</p><p>“Well look, it’s simple. You poop, then flush. The algae eats your poop and gets fat, then we smash it up to get the oil to manufacture fuel from, then that runs the bike.” Bucky’s smile was growing with every word, thinking it was a joke, but it wasn’t, it was vastly more complicated than what he was relaying, but in essence it was accurate. “So that’s why my bike runs like shit.”</p><p>Bucky threw his head back and laughed hard and loud, the sound wonderfully deep and Steve wanted to hear it over and over again. He had an inkling Bucky didn’t laugh often. But he should.</p><p>“That was lame.”</p><p>“<em> You </em> laughed.” Steve retorted, a grin on his face.</p><p>“Because it was so bad, that’s the only reason. Cap here is clearly a terrible judge on what’s funny if he’s let you get away with jokes like that. Aren’t you Cap?” Bucky leant down and patted Cap’s head, his voice condescending by the end. Cap didn’t care, he was getting pats.</p><p>“Liar.” Steve teased back and nudged Bucky’s shin with his foot. “You think I’m clever.”</p><p>Bucky’s laughter died off at Steve’s touch and he stared up at him, until Steve realised how presumptuous that sounded, and as Bucky opened his mouth to speak, Steve quickly grabbed their empty cups, motioning them inside.</p><p>“Best start to get dinner ready, you hungry?”</p><p>As he walked off letting Bucky and Cap trail behind him, he heard Bucky say under his breath ‘very much so, but not for stew’ and frowned, not having anything else to serve up. He’d look at his pantry for something different for the following night.</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p>“Here’s the lube you requested, have at it.” Steve said the next day and threw it towards Bucky, the bottle landing next to him on the sofa, disturbing his reading while he absently scratched behind Caps’ ear. Two sets of eyes looked up, one blue and one brown at Steve’s words and he felt something warm and satisfying wash over him at the domesticity of the picture.</p><p>“Thanks, I’ll just be in my room for the next two hours jacking it if you need me,” Bucky quipped, and Steve flamed red at what he’d just said, not even thinking of the connotations, clearly he needed to work on his social skills. Bucky’s laughter though at the expression on his face, something he’d remember for a long time. The sound now more common around Steve’s house and he lived for those moments of hearing Bucky’s chuckle.</p><p>“Smart ass,” is all Steve managed, the words ‘<em> my room’ </em> and ‘ <em> two hours jacking </em>’ taking up all the space in his brain, making it hard to focus. Did Bucky really feel comfortable enough to think of Steve's spare room as his? And God did Bucky… had Bucky… he couldn't go there, not without getting rock hard.</p><p>Bucky had somehow slotted into Steve’s life too easily, and stupidly, he'd let him. Sure they’d started off as strangers, but in such close proximity for the last week since Bucky had been awake, it had changed. And although Steve was still concerned and wary of the list and Bucky’s intentions on being in town, not to mention the violent way Brock had attacked him, he was finding it hard not to fall into Bucky’s orbit, his quick wit, his smiles that came thick and fast now.</p><p>Steve wanted to grab the lube, then Bucky by the arm, slamming him into the bed, burying himself so deep inside of Bucky, that both of them would feel it for months. </p><p>But Steve couldn’t, he wanted to, <em> desperately, </em> yet Bucky was still healing and gave no indication he liked Steve in that way. He wasn’t going to make a move and have it backfire when he had no idea how long they’d be stuck inside together. There were already 'awkward strangers getting to know each other’ vibes, he didn’t need to add ‘rejected proposition’ vibes to it.</p><p>“The storm sounds like it’s easing,” Bucky remarked as he placed the book carefully on the arm of the sofa, Steve seeing he’d chosen an autobiography on a man called Dave Grohl, it was an entertaining book to rewrite, even if most of what the musician spoke about sounded like a fantasy.</p><p>“Yeah it is, a little. But I think this is a double, it has all the hallmarks of this lag being the eye of the storm and then it ramping up again. I might be able to get a call in to some friends at Turnpike, let them know we’re okay,” Steve noticed Bucky stiffening up when he mentioned contacting town and tried to keep his face impassive. They still hadn’t broached the subject of Bucky’s injuries or business in Turnpike. “They’ll be worried and want me to check-in else they might try and come out here.”</p><p>“Oh, right,” Bucky replied and looked over to the ham radio that Steve used to speak to Nat and Sam and others on occasion. The range was pretty good on a clear day, but the storms rendered it useless most of the time. Steve couldn’t even imagine what a cellular phone like the ones he’d read about would be like. Having people at your fingertips at any time of the day, sounded pretty awful in some ways, though living where he did, it might have also been comforting.</p><p>Suddenly it hit Steve that maybe Bucky wanted to leave when the storm evened out, might not want to stay on the farm with him and Cap. Steve was stunned to realise he didn’t want to ask him, not wanting to hear if Bucky was thinking of leaving. And although Bucky’s chest wounds were healing well, his knee was still a problem, and that concerned Steve. Living on the road as a trader with an injury like that could potentially be a death sentence.</p><p>“Are you, I mean - did you want to… go?” Steve found himself asking the question he’d just vowed he wouldn’t.</p><p>Bucky went still, <em> eerily </em> still, before looking to the side, away from Steve then shifted on the sofa, Cap sitting up, whining a little at the movement. Steve’s chest was unusually tight.</p><p>“I wasn’t planning on it, but if you need your space. I can -’<br/>“- no!” Bucky startled at the venemance behind Steve’s almost shouted word, and Steve sat down heavily on the opposite side of the sofa to Bucky, Cap wagging his tail, thumping on the cushions between them before crawling over on his belly looking for more attention. Steve obliged. “I mean, if you want to, I can set you up with some stuff, drop you back in Turnpike. But it’s… look it’s nice to have some help around here, and that knee still needs attention, and your chest too.”</p><p>Bucky looked at Steve for the longest moment and Steve tried to hold his gaze steadily, hoping in vain that the real reason he wanted Bucky to stay was hidden from the depths of his eyes. He wanted to tell him to stay because he was intrigued by him, wanted to know him better, find out his story, help in any way he could, and if Bucky turned out to be a monster, which he highly doubted, well then, he’d work that out later. </p><p>Steve was finding it hard to peer out from behind his attraction, and Bucky had snared him, without even knowing it.</p><p>“I’d like that. To stay I mean… just for a bit, until I get back on my feet at least. Plus I think you’re right, it feels like there’s another storm brewing.” Bucky was still staring at him and Steve couldn’t make out the expression, if it was fondness, curiosity or something else. “Except you need to work on the smell for that stuff you put on my chest - it’s like old socks.”</p><p>Steve laughed, watching as Bucky ducked his head, a small pleased grin on his face, “Look, it can’t smell any worse than the t-shirt I peeled off your body.”</p><p>And suddenly in the space of a second, there was tension between them, Steve’s words sounding more provocative than intended. Thankfully Cap took that moment to roll onto his back, seeking a belly rub, distracting Steve from blurting anything further.</p><p>“Well to be fair, I was unconscious for that, it’s a whole different experience when I’m awake.” Bucky said quietly and Steve snapped his head around, just as the radio lit up and a blast of static came through.</p><p>“Steve… St... y... th... Rol… or.. over.”</p><p>“What was that?” Bucky asked, apprehension edging his voice.</p><p>“I’m not sure,” Steve replied, getting to his feet and checking out the radio, adjusting dials to get a clearer reception. It also stopped him from throwing caution to the wind and leaning into Bucky’s personal space and grabbing the back of his neck, yanking him forward onto his lap. “It’s Sam though.”</p><p>A few extra staticy words came through, Steve replying, but getting nothing in return from Sam. The storm was still too dense for a clear line of communication. After another ten minutes and still no word, Steve gave up; he’d attempt again once the cluster had cleared. He wondered what Sam was trying to tell him that was so important he’d try during the storm, he knew Steve’s reception was sketchy at best, it must be urgent. He hoped Nat was okay.</p><p>When Steve turned back around, he saw Bucky holding the lube in his hand, and trying not to think of its many uses, Steve coughed, getting Bucky’s attention. He was an idiot.</p><p>“Will that be okay?” Steve motioned towards the bottle.</p><p>“Yeah, Stevie, it’ll be fine.” Bucky said with a soft smile and Steve forgot how to breathe. Bucky seemed to realise what he murmured a moment later, a pink flush infusing his cheeks and Steve couldn’t look away, was about to say something ridiculous, but luckily, Bucky kept speaking. “Do you have any leather, or something I can fashion some straps out of, make a harness for my arm?”</p><p>Still a little struck at the nickname Bucky had unintentionally gifted him, Steve nodded slowly, shaking himself a moment later at the questioning tilt of Bucky’s head, “Um, I’m sure I have a bunch of stuff, I’ll grab it for you. So the arm is just for looks, it doesn’t work?” He wanted to crawl under a rock at his lunacy, “Yeah okay, even I realise that sounded stupid.”</p><p>Bucky chuckled, “reasonable question though, and yep it works, but I need to see a graft doctor to get them to attach it properly, and unfortunately there’s a lack of them on your farm.”</p><p>Steve grinned and fossicked through his linen press, finding the scraps basket that held old rags, and fabric, finding what he thought Bucky would need.</p><p>“Has it ever… come loose before,” Steve finished lamely.</p><p>He didn’t miss the way Bucky stiffened up then sighed deeply, patting Cap as if the small pup was grounding him; the long breath sounding like it came from his very soul, extremely loud in the room. “You can say what you mean. Have I ever had my arm ripped from my body before? No, I haven’t, but thankfully it’s only grafted in certain spots, a few key nerves, so it didn’t tear my shoulder apart. You did a good job cleaning the area up.”</p><p>Steve took a moment to respond, knowing Bucky was giving him trust, a small amount of information and he wasn’t going to pounce on it and demand more answers. Not yet anyway.</p><p>“I won’t lie, it honestly didn’t look like your shoulder had any damage other than a few scratches. So I probably don't deserve credit for that.”</p><p>Shrugging, Bucky held out his hand for the strips of leather Steve had, eyeing them critically, “Bright red? Do I want to know what you used this for?”</p><p>The change in topic gave Steve whiplash, but he recovered well, “Assless chaps.”</p><p>Once more he was assaulted by Bucky’s rich laugh, his body shaking enough that Cap jumped up onto Bucky, excited at the ruckus. </p><p>And suddenly Steve didn’t feel so alone, so adrift in the world and that scared him more than getting caught outside in the middle of a cluster with no protection. Because it was Bucky that gave him that peace, and he didn’t know him at all.</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p>The storm fell quiet overnight and the moment Steve woke, he was up and outside, checking the sky as he made his way to the barn to tend the animals, see if he could move some of the debris and let them roam for a bit under the pale blue of the morning sky. They'd been cooped up too long and Steve could relate to the need for fresh air. </p><p>He’d been at it an hour or two when he heard the back door slam shut and watched from the corner of his eye as Bucky made his way slowly, limp still hampering his movement, across the space, looking curiously at the algae pools, before coming to a stop before Steve.</p><p>“What can I do?” he asked with no preamble.</p><p>Impressed, Steve put him to work, not anything that would require him to be on his feet too long, but Bucky was good at finicky jobs, things Steve generally lost his patience with, and for the next few hours as the sky started to turn its usual orange-red meaning it was time to round up the animals to put back into the barn, they worked in companionable silence.</p><p>That was until a loud noise broke through the peace of the day, Bucky dropping the wrench he held as a bike roared down Steve’s road, kicking up dust behind it.</p><p>“Who the hell?” Steve said out loud, and noticed Bucky shoot up from the chicken run he was repairing and limp-ran into the barn as quick as possible, Cap hard at his heels. It happened so quickly that Steve turned back to the person on the bike, knowing it wasn’t Nat or Sam or anyone from neighbouring farms. Steve’s stomach dropped when the man pulled up, pushing the goggles from his face to sit on his head. </p><p>
  <em> Rollins. </em>
</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>What the hell did one of Pierces’ hired goons want?</p><p>And judging by the way his eyes honed in on the barn, Steve knew he’d seen Bucky.</p><p>Double fuck.</p><p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey all - no real note for you about the chapter - except to thank you all so much for reading along, kudoing, bookmarking and of course the amazing lovely comments I've been gifted - you're all amazing!!</p><p>So enjoy... it's all starting to get a little… interesting...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <span>“Rollins.” Steve greeted tightly, the tone in his voice brooked no room for doubt on what he thought of the unexpected visitor. What the hell was he doing there? The fact Bucky fled as soon as he heard the bike was telling, had Rollins been involved in his attack? Or was Bucky just sketchy about everyone? Steve </span>
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  <span>“Rogers,” Jack greeted as he climbed off the old Yamaha that had seen better days, his tall lanky frame almost bent in two to fit on it. “Who was that?”</span>
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  <span>“Who was what?” Steve replied. “I didn’t see anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looked down his nose at Steve and flicked his eyes to the barn then back, but didn’t say anything, only raised a brow sardonically, knowing Steve was lying, yet not calling him out on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boss needs his meds.” He stated instead, and Steve sighed, that he could deal with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He shouldn’t be out of them yet. I took three jars to him on my last trip, left them at his office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the weathers been playing up and his pain is worse than usual.” Jack drawled, his gaze moving back to the barn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve narrowed his eyes, not liking the intensity of the stare Jack gave the large building. The annoyance of him appearing out of nowhere on the first sign of good weather welled up, and Steve lamented the fact he’d got caught in a trap of his own making with Pierce. He’d started to produce a painkilling paste to be ingested every morning for the pushy trader, and had not intended to be his sole supplier as the medicine was heavy stuff, but the local medic beseeched him. Steve assumed she’d been bullied into it and wanting to help out Helen, Steve now had to contend with Pierce on a regular basis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking towards his glasshouse, he saw Jack take a step towards the barn. “You want his medicine, it’s this way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s voice was clipped and he could tell immediately that Jack was not impressed with the tone. But Steve wasn’t there to please the likes of Rollins, so he just kept walking, hoping that Jack would fall in behind. He did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell your boss I don’t appreciate people coming to my home uninvited, I come into town every month for a reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, don’t be like that,” Jack drawled, leaning up against the doorframe and maneuvering himself to be facing the barn. Steve really didn’t like the considering look on his face. “Makes it sound like you’ve got something to hide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t react, just continued to get the medicine organised, but only packed the half strength. He wasn’t going to pander to Pierce’s addiction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I do - a room full of addictive pain medication. This is not stuff he should be playing with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boss gets what the boss wants,” was the response, Jack’s eyes finally leaving the barn to land on Steve, his smarmy smile enough for Steve to want another shower to wash off the lingering after effects.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve handed over two small jars, “I’ll bring in his top up once this clusters over. You should get going, who knows when the secondary storm will hit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smirk on Jacks' face indicated he knew exactly what Steve was trying to do, “not even an offer of a drink, some biscuits, sweet tea? No? Your mother would be ashamed of your hospitality skills.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clenching his teeth, Steve took a step into Jacks’ space and for the first time it seemed the other man noticed how big Steve was compared to him, how many more muscles he had and his smirk faltered. “If you ever bring up my ma again, Rollins, you won’t like what I’ll do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the jars without a retort, Jack shoved them into his bag, pulling out a drink bottle and taking a long sip, smacking his lips, not moving for the longest moment. His eyes honed in on Steve as Steve gestured to Jack's bike and shepherded him to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ride safe out there, it’s a tricky road sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes it is, Rogers.” Jack replied enigmatically, “Yes it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he pulled his goggles down and roared off down the long driveway, Steve couldn’t help but shiver. He was fairly certain Jack had just threatened him. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky limped from the barn about ten minutes after Jack rode off, Steve had been itching to go find him immediately, but thought he’d give a little bit of space. Because Steve had questions, mountains of them, and this time he wasn’t going to let Bucky deflect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tea?” Steve asked as he went to lock up the animals, the sky deepening in the burnt orange that indicated late afternoon. He wondered if Jack </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> get home safely, not that it mattered; if Pierce was sending his hired help out this late in the day to get his medications, it wasn’t his problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nodded, but his gaze was averted, a frown between his eyes as he followed Steve into the house; Cap sniffing around and peeing one last time before coming with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve busied himself making the tea while Bucky sat on the sofa, elbow resting on his knee, head hanging down, his dark hair creating a curtain around his features and Steve wasn’t sure where Bucky’s thoughts were at. Had seeing Rollins brought back trauma?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Steve passed over the tea, the radio suddenly burst into staticky life. Steve jolted, almost spilling the hot liquid, but with a grace he’d not seen before, Bucky grabbed the cup before it tilted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve, man are you there? For fucks sake, answer, over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Striding to the radio, Steve grabbed the receiver, pressing the button down, “Hey, Sam, what’s going on? over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to contact you all day, over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fixing things, getting fresh air before the storm starts again, what’s happening? Is Nat ok? over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, everything’s fine here. Was trying to warn you that Rollins was coming, I overheard them in the street talking about Pierce needing something from you. But I also wanted to check if you came across anything about the guy who disappeared? Did you find anyone at all? A body even? over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing Bucky’s head snap up from the corner of his eye, his body poised ready to flee; Steve looked over. The expression on Bucky’s face, stricken, as he stared intently at Steve, and Steve licked his lips, took in a deep breath as his eyes held Bucky’s, then depressed the button. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, didn’t find a thing, no one was out there. Over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh damn, I hope whoever the poor bastard was is alright. Fuck Pierce and his men. You doing okay out there alone? Over.” Sam’s tinny voice, loud and crackling in the room and Steve turned back to the radio to try and get it clearer, but the static was getting worse again. The storms return imminent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, me and Cap are making do. Rollins did come past for some meds, and I agree, I don’t know what can be done about them, but we have to try and do something. I’ll check in after the next storm, take care, say hey to Nat. Over and out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will do, give Cap an extra bit of jerky and a belly rub for me. Over and out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hung up the small receiving device then faced Bucky, whose mouth was agape as he stared, his face a mixture of confusion and burgeoning hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn't tell your friend I was here. You also didn’t tell that guy - Rollins was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buck -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- you were looking for me? Out there in the Dead City?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not sure how to answer, Steve decided that honesty was the best policy and gave a small shrug and grabbed his mug of tea, taking a sip, eyes holding Bucky’s the whole time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yeah, I was. I mean, I didn't know it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> specifically I was looking for. But Sam overheard something that indicated someone had… that someone might be in trouble.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky tilted his head to the right, "so you found a stranger, brought them home, patched them up without knowing anything about them, their past, who they are, what danger they could pose to you? Bring down on you?" Pausing, Bucky's face scrunched up, "why?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn't hesitate, "because it was the right thing to do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The right thing to…" Bucky trailed off and huffed out a breath, "you're unbelievable, Steve. I could be anyone, you realise that right? I could be a killer, an organ trafficker -"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped dead, Steve clearly unable to catch his expression in time, he'd not meant to react at his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky's eyes widened fractionally as he came to a realisation about something. “You've seen the list havent you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rubbing the back of his neck, Steve came and sat on the far end of the sofa and nodded. Waiting, not wanting to speak in case Bucky stopped talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, it's not what you think it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Steve asked when Bucky fell silent. Both watching Cap as he walked in from the laundry, still chewing on a jerky treat before he climbed onto his cushion, turning in circles a few times before falling into a heap, the treat between his front paws as he licked and chewed, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sigh from Bucky came long and hard, “Okay it's a little of what you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky then moved until he faced Steve, his uninjured knee bent up on the sofa, the other one outstretched so as not to hurt it further, and Steve longed to grab Bucky’s leg, prop it up on his lap and stroke up and down the limb in a comforting manner. The grip on his mug tightened, Bucky was not his, they were not that type of familiar. Even if he wanted to, there were too many secrets between them. Bucky’s secrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That list names the six most dangerous men in the State Territories, and one man who is more deadly than all of them combined, an enforcer.” Bucky shifted on the seat and Steve could tell he was struggling to voice words, but he didn’t tell him not to continue, to stop, because Steve needed to know, had to hear the truth, Bucky’s truth. “I grew up in a small town down south, quite a bit further on from Old Washington, the name doesn’t matter, it doesn’t exist anymore, you’ll find no trace of it. Nor of the people who lived there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve watched as Bucky’s hand shook when he took a long pull of tea, inhaling the peppermint herbs first, glancing over at Cap, who now had an ear pricked as if sensing the change in mood. Steve waved his hand surreptitiously and Cap jumped up and launched at the couch, coming to rest between them, lying pressed up against Steve’s side and Bucky’s bent knee, Bucky’s hand immediately curling into the soft fur once he’d placed his mug down. Steve wondered errantly if Helen had accreditation for being able to do grafting and if so, could she attach Bucky’s metal arm for him? It was a thought for later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you heard of a group called The Accords?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blinked, and looked at Bucky searchingly, wondering if it was a joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve heard whispers but they don’t exist - they’re just a myth -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- Steve, I can tell you right now they are not a myth, they are a power hungry group of… look, you know how fracking changed the earths’ core? Right, and you know how in some regions it created pockets of energy just under the surface? Energy that couldn’t be harnessed, something they proved time and time again in our great grandparents era, at extensive loss of life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Steve waited, a sick feeling forming in his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They tried again, these </span>
  <em>
    <span>people,</span>
  </em>
  <span> about ten years ago, this group of… they destroyed...” Bucky’s voice cracked and Cap climbed onto his lap, nose nuzzling against his stomach, and Steve wished he could offer more than just an ear like Cap could. “No, they obliterated an entire town that sat less than a mile away from a pocket. No one survived, if you go there, you’ll find an empty crater. It was my town. My people. My </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire</span>
  </em>
  <span> family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s mouth opened and closed again a few times as he tried to digest the momentous implications, a group of shady people, a group that were just a rumour, attempting to do the impossible, harvesting energy from the slowly dying earths’ crust. And by extension, tearing Bucky's life asunder. How had news of an entire populace being decimated not reached their ears in Turnpike?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did…” he couldn’t finish as Bucky looked at him, eyes haunted and without thinking he reached out, hand falling on Bucky’s knee. Bucky visibly startled at the touch and Steve went to pull away but suddenly Bucky’s hand fell on his, warm, shaky, but accepting the small comfort Steve could offer. He knew what losing family was like, just not on such a horrific scale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He desperately wanted to wrap Bucky up in his arms, hold him close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was one of the lucky few, on a trade journey at the time, came back to find…  anyway, it soon became apparent anyone who survived that wasn't in town at the time, who could remember the town, had family there, started to disappear. At the time there were whispers of The Accords, that they'd supposedly been around for generations, had been involved in a similar catastrophe in another town further south whose name was also forgotten." Bucky inhaled raggedly and Steve was at a complete loss for words, "So I bided my time, followed, listened, overheard and finally found them a year ago. Found out they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> involved, had signed off on it, and now I -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- you kill them,” Steve finished, uncertain how he felt about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span> Steve, who do you think I am?” he removed his hand and picked up his tea again, sipping it, his face impassive, yet Steve saw the flash of annoyance tinged in sadness. Cap turned in Bucky’s lap to lick at Steve’s knuckles as he still held Bucky’s knee, and feeling a little silly, he sat back, taking his hand with him. “I bring them to justice, set them up for a fall, dig up anything I can until they are ruined, or incarcerated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Steve breathed out, chagrined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky though chuckled instead of the bite he expected, “I don’t blame you for thinking that way, but that’s why I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For Pierce and Rumlow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Pierce is the last of the six, but Rumlow is his gun, the man on the ground, the man who has literal blood on his hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The man who did this to you.” Steve finished and gestured over Bucky’s body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shifted in the seat, wincing at his knee, then nodded, “they got the drop on me, I have no idea how they knew I was coming into town, or that they knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was. Underestimating Pierce was something I shouldn’t have done, I didn’t even have a chance to get my bearings and suddenly there were four of them. I was already weak from the cut on my chest, was going to the medic to get it sorted, but it was too late. The next thing that happened was you finding me. Saving me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky looked over at Steve and there was something buried deep in his gaze, an emotion Steve couldn’t name, but it made his eyes darken and Steve was helpless to look away. The air thick and Steve didn’t want to move, to break the spell, wasn’t sure what was happening, then Cap broke the tension, making himself known by letting out a small noise and jumping up into Steve’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fond smile that broke out on Bucky’s face at the sight, a relief to see after what he’d just confessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You hungry boy? Always damn hungry, aren’t you?” Steve teased Cap, reluctantly getting up to organise Caps’ dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky moved as well, standing up gingerly and stretching his legs, the pain still there if the twitch in his cheek was anything to go by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need more pain relief?” Steve asked and Bucky shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I don’t want to rely on it, but thanks. I’ll get our dinner ready, while you sort out the terror.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding with a fond smile, Steve walked to the laundry room trying to imagine the life Bucky had endured to get to the point he was at. A ghost in the night, tracking down a secret group of powerful individuals, taking them down not with reciprocal violence, but with justice. Steve felt his chest well with pride for a man he hardly knew. Bucky had lost everything and suddenly all Steve wanted to do was help him right that wrong - stand beside him, aid him with his mission. He wondered why he felt so compelled to do so, but knew in his gut that it was the right thing to do. It also frightened him to know that he wanted it because it was for Bucky and that was reason enough. He didn’t linger on his reasoning, and how it swung heavily in one particular direction.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner was a quiet affair, Bucky appearing drained and tired, so Steve kept the chatter to a minimum. Reliving the horrors and the memories that no doubt lingered in the forefront of his mind would not have been pleasant. But Steve couldn’t help being glad he now knew the truth, although concern also filled him at the toll it had taken, the toll it </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>take. What would Bucky do once he’d brought Pierce and Brock to justice? Head back south, keep moving? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stay?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The storm rolled in as they said their goodnights, both exhausted from the day, and Steve not for the first time felt a small pang of jealousy as Cap followed Bucky to his room, knowing Bucky needed comfort, hoping Cap could give it. But it didn't stop Steve wanting to offer it as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour later as the storm really took hold, Steve found himself tossing and turning in bed, feeling wound up, janky, the wind whistling louder as he watched lightning flashing beyond the curtains, the room bursting with light each time. Huffing, he shut his eyes tight, but doing so only brought up an image of Bucky, smiling, hair still damp from the shower, a sparkle in his eye as he teased Steve about the old man shirts he’d gifted Bucky to wear. And that started a cavalcade of images of Bucky walking around in his clothes, smelling like Steve and his gut clenched in sheer want, his possessiveness getting a workout each and every time he looked over at Bucky in his gear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wanted to claim him. Take him. Mark him up and make sure Bucky was left a limp sated mess by the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to talk himself out of it, Steve finally relented, knowing he wouldn’t be able to rest at all until he expended his extra energy, and leant over grasping the bottle of lube from his bedside table. Shucking his sleep shirt and pants until he was naked, Steve spread out on his bed, one knee up, ready. Already hard as granite from the thought of touching himself while Bucky was in the house, he hissed loudly when he applied the liquid to his palm liberally, wrapping his fingers around himself tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ,” he let out a small moan, hoping the storm caught the word he’d not intended to let slip out. But he felt alive, on fire, his body desperate for the friction, to feel good, to let go and imagine it was someone else’s hand. Bucky’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slide had the perfect amount of glide and twist, just the way he liked it, and Steve wasn’t there to tease himself, he wanted to get off, wanted to come with Bucky’s name on his lips. He tried not to feel the pang of shame at lusting after his houseguest in such a way, but he couldn’t stop now even if he tried. Loosening his grip on the upstroke then tightening it on the down, his breaths started to come in sharper, his gut clenching as his hips started to thrust up into his hand. It felt too good, and he couldn’t stop the small gasps leaving his throat, the storm raging around him as his mind dropped in on what Bucky would feel like under his hands, how his heat would feel wrapped tight around Steve’s dick. What it would be like to pound into him relentlessly until he screamed Steve’s name over and over until he was a sobbing, sated mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Steve called out as his dick twitched in his hand, thick rivulets of come landing on his stomach, warm and pulsing as he continued to stroke himself for a few minutes more until he started to soften.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large crash shook the house and Steve sat bolt up in bed, a second later his door slammed open and Bucky stood silhouetted in the door as electricity surrounded the house, flashes illuminating the room. Bucky suddenly flipped the light on, clearly seeing Steve was up. But the shock on Bucky's face when he saw that although Steve was upright, he was also a complete mess, seared him to the bone. Steve's come dribbled down his chest, his release still tepid, caused by the very man who stood staring, mouth agape, eyes blown as he looked, </span>
  <em>
    <span>devoured</span>
  </em>
  <span> Steve and his nakedness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god,” Bucky moaned roughly and Steve flushed with another burst of want. “Fuck, there’s no time. Look, I think something’s hit the glasshouse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without even thinking about his predicament, Steve was up and shoving himself into sweats only to turn and find Bucky still at the door, eyes riveted to Steve’s stomach, wet still with his thick mess. Steve didn’t have time to apologise, to feel embarrassed, he just grabbed a t-shirt, wiping quickly and threw a different one on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you help?” Steve asked as he strode to the door, Bucky still not moving, seemingly stuck in the spot, until Steve came toe to toe with him, grasping his arm. The touch is what shocked Bucky from his immobility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, whatever you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a loaded statement, but Steve nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to stay in the glasshouse, while I go out and see what’s happened, help me from the inside. The generator is still on, so we’ll have light, but if something’s hit the greenhouse I have to minimise the damage. What I have in there is too precious to leave to the elements.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nodded and ran straight for the greenhouse as Steve threw on his suit, noting that Bucky’s bedroom door was shut, Cap’s worried whines coming from inside. It was great forthought, Cap would be a hindrance and if he got out into the storm, Steve wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything but getting him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he got outside and slowly stalked through the wind and dust cloud, Steve could immediately see what had happened by shining his one and only torch in that direction. The netting was still intact, and although generally speaking there wouldn’t have been an issue with debris flying at the house, Steve never knew what type of junk would barrel out of the murk. But this time it wasn’t a flat sheet of metal that deflected off the protective shield, it was a huge piece of metal with long protrusions sticking out from it; not unlike a cone with prongs. And of course that’s what had slammed into the netting, the spikes hitting just the right way to have impaled and pushed in almost three sheets of the large polycarbonate on the roof, close to the sheets of actual glass. Two of the roof panels were on the ground, thankfully still intact, but squashing some of his plants, and he spied Bucky inside, pulling the sheets up and off to minimise the damage, and Steve was thankful for the help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not relishing having to do this during a storm in the dead of the night, especially one that still had debris flying around, (as Steve was unable to tell if he was about to be impaled) he started to climb up the side of the netting to reach the roof. Steve had never wished for daylight more than in that moment, trying to climb with a torch, the inside lights muted, but at least on. He could see smaller debris and dust floating in over his plants and knew he'd have a hell of a time cleaning up the area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw Bucky grabbing the ladder and silently praised the way he just got what was needed, and did it without question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Steve was up at the peak, having little to no footing due to the raging wind and lack of grip, he started to yank on the heavy piece of junk. After only a few seconds, Steve knew it wasn’t going to be easy to dislodge it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Using every muscle he had, and then some, he strained, arms popping, feeling the burn - but it barely moved. Suddenly Bucky’s face appeared on the other side, he was at the top of the ladder, a shirt wrapped around his mouth to stop the debris cloud particles from getting into his lungs, and using his one arm, he pushed; Steve pulling at the same time, putting everything he had into it. Five minutes of straining and yelling at each other to be heard over the storm later, they managed to dislodge it; letting it drop to the ground with what Steve knew would have been a loud crash, but could hear nothing over the storm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you pass me the sheets, we need to put them back up.” Steve yelled and motioned with his hands, knowing Bucky wouldn’t be able to hear him properly, but he understood and slid down the ladder at breakneck speed, and Steve realised a second later how difficult it would be, with his damaged knee and one arm. Yet, there was Bucky, slowly coming up the ladder, somehow holding the sheet of large plastic in his grip and climbing with no point of contact except his feet. With the wind screaming into the space, Steve held his breath, it was dangerous, if Bucky fell, he could seriously injure himself. But then Steve was leaning forward to meet him, Bucky holding up the sheet as Steve secured it as best he could with what little tools he was able to wield in the weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They repeated the same fix with the next sheet, the second one having a huge crack that meant it probably wouldn’t last until morning, but it would get them through until Steve could visit the barn in daylight to get a new piece.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just as Steve took his first real breath, even as artificial as it was in his suit, he watched as Bucky looked down and took one step, Steve screaming out when he saw the </span>
  <em>
    <span>third</span>
  </em>
  <span> piece of thick plastic falling from the roof, hitting the ladder, knocking Bucky clean off from over six feet up in the air. He watched horrified as Bucky fell - arm outstretched before landing heavily in the garden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next ten minutes were spent frantically trying to get down, the netting causing him nothing but grief as his scrambling to get inside caught him up, tangling him with every other step.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally he was inside, ripping off the suit, jumping out of it and sprinting towards the glasshouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky!” he yelled and saw the still unmoving body on the ground. “Fuck!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sliding to a stop, Steve bent down and scooped Bucky up, noting how much heavier he was than the last time Steve had him in his arms, and through the panic, he felt glad that it was his cooking and care that had made Bucky healthier. Though that shouldn’t have been a thought, as his main concern was to check Bucky for injuries - again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing that Cap was in the spare room safe, Steve went straight for his own bedroom, placing Bucky carefully on the bed and quickly checked him over. Thankful after a cursory inspection it appeared he’d only been knocked out. Loathing to move from his spot next to Bucky, Steve knew he couldn’t leave his greenhouse unprotected. It was his livelihood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the assurance that Bucky was breathing steadily, with no broken bones, went a long way to helping Steve concentrate to get sheeting up over the last hole in the roof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhausted and running on pure adrenaline, Steve finished up in the greenhouse and slowly made his way back to his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky hadn’t moved, his breathing still smooth and Steve assumed he’d fallen into a deep slumber, knowing he'd have to wake him soon to ensure he'd not suffered a concussion. Gathering his things to go doze in the spare room with Cap, now that Bucky was safe and okay, he couldn’t help but stop by the bed and look down. Steve soaked in Bucky’s relaxed features, and because he had time, knowing Bucky wouldn’t catch him staring, Steve looked his fill, memorising every feature soft in rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was honestly the most stunning man Steve had ever seen. And Steve came to a shattering realisation that after only such a short period of time, he was too attached, wouldn’t be able to say goodbye without pain, without the feeling of losing something precious to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Steve whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming into the storm, and he couldn't help but bend over, resting his forehead against Bucky’s with no intent other than being close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inhaling deep steady breaths, Steve let the sensation of his skin against Bucky’s skin, calm him, ground him in the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve?” Bucky’s voice husked and his eyes flew open, he was so close, too close to perfection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Attempting to move away proved impossible as Bucky’s hand had come up to curl around the back of Steve’s head, holding him in place, the strength surprising. He’d not noticed the motion until it was too late, until he was too lost in the deep blue swirling of Bucky’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky tilted his chin up, and suddenly warm lips caught Steve’s in a soft and sweet press. Steve was too stunned to move, to reciprocate until Bucky let him go, falling back onto the pillow, eyes tired but full of promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay with me, Stevie. Don't leave. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gulped and nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Is this where I put warnings? Like spice warnings? 🌶️🌶️ If so - consider yourself warned that this chapter gets a little heated, and if that's not your thing, maybe skip to the last paragraph - for all you others - enjoy 😏 (the smirky face just isn't smirky enough!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t relax, not enough to be able to rest properly anyway. His arms were full of sleeping brunette, the scent of Bucky pressed against him, smothering Steve’s senses, and he was trying with every fibre of his being not to get hard. Bucky snored softly, his one hand curled around Steve’s forearm, holding firmly, pulling tighter so Steve was plastered against his back. He wondered if Bucky was always so clingy when sleeping next to others, or if it was just with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Attempting to shift his hips away, so as not to disturb Bucky with his ‘growing problem’ proved fruitless as Bucky unconsciously scooted back until the curve of his ass slotted perfectly into Steve’s lap once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Christ</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it was the sweetest agony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The soft glow of the lamp lit the room in muted yellow, just enough so Steve could monitor Bucky overnight. As the storm continued to ram the house, he enjoyed the closeness, having the warmth of another body against him, Bucky’s body. Steve was trying to be the better person by letting Bucky recover, by waking him every other hour to ensure he didn’t have a concussion; not let his desires run away with him and kiss those delicious lips. So he tempered his wants when Bucky hazily came back into wakefulness, scowling at Steve for rousing him again. But disturbing him was important, Steve wasn’t about to let him slip into an unconscious state again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Bucky’s unexpected and oh-so-soft kiss, along with the plea to stay, he’d all but fallen into exhaustion, eyes closing slowly while feebly trying to grasp at Steve’s hand; which he gave over immediately and Bucky fell into slumber as soon as Steve’s touch landed on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for Steve, those few precious seconds of Bucky’s lips pressed against his had become a fixed point in time, the moment his entire body lit up, burst into flames, the all consuming need to look after Bucky, to watch over him, have him by his side took over all preconceived notions he had about finding a partner. The person he wanted to call his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course Steve would fall for a trader of no fixed address who’d suffered a cruel fate, a man so hellbent on revenge, though noble as it was, that wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stay with Steve on a farm, not until he’d found his peace. And even then, would Steve be enough of a drawcard for Bucky to return to, on his mundane farm and his routine life of animals, medicines and books?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve found himself holding Bucky tighter, nuzzling into the soft hair falling over his neck, nosing his way in until he found skin and pressed his lips against the warmth, feeling the slight inhales as Bucky slept, the soft murmur of contentment. The ease at the way Bucky fell into him, trusted him, was astounding, and Steve would be eternally grateful that fate had put them on the same trajectory, but for how long?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Musing about it made his stomach roil and checking the time, he shook Bucky softly, letting him stir as naturally as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you think about waking me again, I will break all the fingers on your hands.” Bucky’s growl came from buried in his pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s grin was huge, “sounds like you’re awake and fine to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shifted, his hips grazing Steve’s lap again, and he bit his lip, willing his half hard and heavy dick to stay put. Bucky wiggled again, he had to have felt it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus H Christ.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, I can't handle this anymore.” Bucky exclaimed with a whine in his voice, Steve was immediately on high alert.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you in pain?” He asked, ready to run to the lab and get Bucky anything he needed. But Bucky’s grip on his arm didn’t loosen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, where does it hurt?” Steve demanded, a note in his voice he didn’t want to examine too hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'll show you,” Bucky husked, his hand sliding up Steve’s forearm until his palm fell over Steve’s hand, grasping it. Steve burst with concern, why hadn’t Bucky mentioned the pain before, that he was hurt? He felt like an idiot, he should have realised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s movements were slow but sure, pulling downwards until Steve’s open palm pressed directly over Bucky’s groin, his dick, thick, hard and straining against the shorts Steve had loaned him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck…” Steve breathed out, his heart racheting up fifty notches until he was certain it was about to burst from his chest. He didn’t know what to do, he stalled, but Bucky squeezed his hand, which in turn made Steve’s fingers close. Close over Bucky’s hardness, his perfectly sized dick, and ignoring the tremble within them, Steve’s fingers ran along the clothed length, he couldn’t help himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Steve,” Bucky pleaded deeply, tilting his head back, giving Steve access to his neck, offering him everything he’d been dreaming of the last few weeks. “I can’t get the image of you in bed, come dribbling down your chest out of my mind. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, want you so bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're still recovering,” Steve ground out, the words punching him in the gut as his fingers continued to dance over Bucky, learning, touching, unable to stop even though he knew he should. It was true, Bucky had a hell of a fall that night, plus with his other injuries it would surely be taking advantage of him, without full movement, Bucky wouldn’t be able to participate equally. And something feral sat up to attention within Steve at the sheer thought of Bucky being at his mercy, unable to move, taking what Steve gave and begging for more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would Bucky be interested in something like that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I need is for you to stop being a fucking martyr. You’re waking me up every hour as it is, and to be honest, this is a much more pleasant way to stay awake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve's fingers involuntarily twitched as Bucky thrust up into his hand, finding himself grasping as much as he could of Bucky’s length.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god,” Steve whispered, and buried his face into Bucky’s neck, lips pressing hotly against the skin, licking and sucking small patches. Bucky’s guttural groan made him respond, lips pushing harder, bites and teeth pulling skin away from Bucky’s body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touch me, Steve. Make me feel good - I’ve wanted you for so long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unable to say no, to rein in his galloping desire, Steve slipped his hand into Bucky’s shorts, feeling the heat of his arousal for the first time, the smoothness, the silkiness as he ran his palm up and over the head, feeling the slickness that already coated the tip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pal, we’ve known each other for two weeks,” Steve said as he jerked once, twice until Bucky let out a soft exhale, full of pure bliss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a long time in this day and age.” Bucky responded as his arm reached around, to pull Steve up against him, grinding Steve’s hardness into the cleft of his ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Steve rasped, and bit harder than he’d intended into the soft skin of Bucky’s neck, ready to apologise, but he didn’t expect Bucky to rut up against him and whine desperately.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was a goner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Running his hand roughly up Bucky’s length, he squeezed tight and Bucky moaned again, the wrecked sound lighting Steve up, his adrenaline spiking. Bucky was the single greatest person on their godforsaken hellscape of a planet. And he was all Steve’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the possessive thoughts swirled in Steve’s mind, manifesting in the way he cocooned himself around Bucky, surrounded him until he was trapped in Steve’s steel like embrace, he had presence of mind to blindly feel back towards his side table, rustling around until his fingers found the bottle of lube. But in the end he had to let go of Bucky, his reach not long enough to get it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he turned back, bottle in hand, he saw the self satisfied grin on Bucky’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Steve asked, voice deeper and throatier than usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s eyes darkened before he spoke, “you already had a stash of lube, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ducking his head, Steve chuckled, “well, yeah. I’ve lived out here alone a long time. Didn’t want to look like a creep by having a vat already made up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky hummed, and turned so he was on his back, staring up at Steve. “Can I tell you something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Steve breathed out roughly, as he coated his fingers and palm, enamoured at the way Bucky slid his shorts off, devouring the sight of his uncut dick for the first time, gaze unable to move, it was gorgeous, full, and begging for Steve’s touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you gave me the lube for my arm, that night I opened myself up and came with your name on my lips. But I wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> stuffed in me, not my fingers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking hell,” Steve husked, how was Bucky real? He slammed forward, kissing Bucky desperately; trying to climb into his mouth; his now slick fingers wrapping around Bucky’s dick, feeling a jerky gasp escaping from him into Steve’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was going to die like this, and die the happiest man in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve's hand slipped over Bucky easily and he pulled back to watch Bucky’s face as he jerked him fast, hard and brutal, the gasps punched out of him sharp and desperate. Steve wanted every night to start like this; taking Bucky apart with his hands, his tongue, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>, anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve,” Bucky whined, closing his eyes momentarily, only to snap them open a second later to catch Steve’s gaze, his mouth open and wet from their kisses, his breaths labouring as he tried to hold himself accountable and not come. Steve could see all the signs, his gaze reluctantly leaving Bucky’s to look down his body in the light. Bucky’s stomach was taut, holding itself to stop the impending orgasm, toes curling, and thighs that would sit perfectly around Steve’s head as he tongued deep into him, tensing with every stroke Steve gave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so responsive, perfect in fact, look at you, begging to come using my hand alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nodded, tongue darting out to lick his lips and Steve couldn’t stop himself and leant back to kiss him deeply, his hand still flying over Bucky’s dick and he could feel it, could sense how close he was to losing himself. A wave of satisfaction, thick and syrupy, crashed over Steve at being able to make Bucky feel that way, pulling his orgasm from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Steve stopped all movement, taking his hand away, and the cry that was torn from Bucky’s throat, sweet to Steve’s ears. The torment of being so close only to have it stalled, eliciting a tremble in Steve’s hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got you, just trust me.” Steve whispered, then bent down to push his tongue deeply into Bucky’s mouth, so much so Bucky gasped at the intrusion, his body bowing up, trying to find Steve’s hand again and he chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slipping his finger back behind Bucky’s balls, he pressed against the tight smooth skin, rubbing until Bucky writhed, his lips clinging to Steve’s, and only when he could feel Bucky nearing over sensitisation at pressing the same spot over and over, did he slide his finger further to push lightly against his hole. Bucky’s legs spread immediately, opening for Steve so sweetly and the twitch of the tight ring of muscle under his fingertip made Steve groan, Bucky was perfection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want me to fill you up, sweetheart, make you so full you can’t breathe?” Steve rasped against Bucky’s kiss swollen lips, then captured his bottom lip with his teeth, biting down softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck, yes, yes I want that… so much.” Bucky clenched up beautifully as Steve’s finger pressed in further, “please… please…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I've got you, but first - I need to check, it’s been a long time since I - well, I don’t have anything here, can I…” Steve didn’t really know how to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, absolutely. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve, I want to feel you in me, I’m fine, if you trust me?” Bucky stated, biting his bottom lip as Steve’s slick finger pressed all the way in, eyes fluttering closed as he sighed. Steve couldn’t help lean back down to kiss him chastly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I trust you,” Steve said, meaning more than just the moment they were in. But it didn't stop him from shivering in anticipation of being bare in Bucky, feeling him tight around him, milking his dick with every deep thrust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the lube, Steve moved down to better ready Bucky to take him, and god it was a sight to behold. Bucky’s leg’s were slack, open wide, Steve’s finger pulsing slowly in a steady pace, never relenting, just continuing to push in then sliding out, over and over, a second finger soon joining the first and the groan and the way Bucky’s fingers grasped the bedsheets, made Steve smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he opened him up further, Steve gripped Bucky's forgotten dick again, giving him a few hard, rough strokes. Bucky was immediately on edge, words tumbling from his lips, begging Steve to take him, split him open, fuck him raw and it was the filth of the words that had Steve hard and weeping in his shorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole time Steve was punishing Bucky with his hands, playing him until he all but cried out for release, he kept an eye on how Bucky was going, if it was all too much. Steve had started to lose himself in the taut heat around his fingers and had to make sure, check in that Bucky was okay after his fall, and if the whimpers and pleas, the glazed look in his eyes were any indication - he was more than okay. But Steve would continue to monitor. If he didn’t pass out from sheer want, that was. He was concerned once his dick was in Bucky’s tight slick hole, he’d lose all reason and just pummel until he saw stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And within minutes he was about to find out how hardy his resolve was. Shoving his shorts off, he lubed up, hissing at the feel of his hand around himself for the second time that night and climbed up over Bucky, staring down into his blown eyes, the pupil showing only a mere thin ring of grey around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ready sweetheart?” Steve asked, the wind howling loudly, drowning out his words, so he leant close to whisper it directly into Bucky’s ear with a small nip to the lobe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than, just... fuck me already.” Bucky hissed as Steve pressed further until just the head of his dick entered, stretching Bucky’s rim, then stopped. Bucky’s eyes flew open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the magic word?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you fucking… please, Steve. Please fuck me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chuckling, Steve complied, pushing in carefully, knowing he’d prepared Bucky as best he could, but it was still unbelievably tight and Steve shuddered at the friction, the grip pulling him in deeper, the sensation of having Bucky wrapped completely around him, and suddenly all mirth disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gazed down at Bucky, mouth agape as he adjusted, ground in a little deeper, Bucky’s gasp at the movement so perfect he did it again, and again until Bucky was rambling incoherent words. He relished in Bucky's pure abandonment, in the trust and faith he put into Steve to make him feel good, and god, Steve was going to ensure Bucky knew how much that meant to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bucky, there wasn’t another way to describe it, he fucked him hard, and fast, his thrusts long, deep and quick. He fucked him as Bucky wailed out, calling for more, his hand curled around the back of Steve’s neck for leverage and met Steve’s thrusts as best he could. And Steve, Steve just continued a relentless pace, fucking into Bucky, twisting his hips a little, slamming deep, over and over and over until sweat beaded on his brow. He could have fucked Bucky for hours, minutes or seconds, his concept of time was skewed, all that existed was the heat engulfing him, the sensation of dragging through Bucky’s body, claiming him, taking him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God you’re so tight, so good,” Steve grunted out, “Want to keep you open all day so I can slide into you at any time. Fuck you with my fingers, for hours until you’re sloppy and open, ready for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, I want that. Shit, I’m gonna come, oh god, you’re gonna make me come, Steve,” Bucky called out, and Steve snaked his hand between them, gripping Bucky’s heavy dick, stroking it as best he could while he thrust. “Oh, yes, that, right there, don’t stop, oh god, don’t stop.. I’m… shit… I’m…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky came, mouth open, eyes shut, quivering around Steve, gripping his dick vice-like, and Steve gritted his teeth and kept pounding into him, chasing his own release.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only a minute or so later, Bucky slack beneath him, twitching with aftershocks, Steve came, loud, hard and gushing. Oh god, he’d forgotten the feeling of spilling inside of a body, the intensity of it, the way it was hot and wet and satisfying like nothing else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally unclenched, relaxing into Bucky, gathering his wits, catching his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, I’m sorry, are you alright, did I hurt you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s dazed eyes met his, and the smile that graced his features was soft. “Nope, I’m great, tired, but.. I’d forgotten what that felt like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too, pal, me too.” Steve replied with a huff of laughter, bending down to kiss Bucky’s lips, his stomach flipping when Bucky deepened it, tongue flicking up into Steve’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They lay for a bit, basking in the afterglow of their respective orgasms, before Steve finally got up, bones creaking from the new exercise he’d put his body through, and went to get something to clean them up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Bucky sleepily looked up at Steve as he finished wiping him down, something deep inside of him pulsed - he was too invested - and that equal parts thrilled and terrified him. But then Bucky pulled him down, wrapping his arm around Steve and snuggled up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you dare shake me awake again in an hour, I will strangle you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chuckling, Steve lay comfortably as Bucky fell into an instant sleep, yet slumber continued to elude Steve for the longest time, as he realised that he wasn’t only </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> invested, he was actually all in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve woke to a wet heat engulfing his dick and stunned, looked down at Bucky who was eagerly slurping away at his engorged hardness. Clearly there was going to be no awkward morning after conversation as to whether it had been a one time thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, you’re going to kill me,” Steve strangled out as Bucky took him so deep Steve saw white, hips jerking up involuntarily, Bucky growling at the movement, then doubling down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Popping his mouth off after a few more unfathomably deep swallows, Bucky showed off his incredible core strength by using his hand to jerk Steve while bent over him, to keep him wanting, giving him a grin, lips red, spit staining his chin, “maybe, but what a way to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grinning in return, Steve lay down flat, hand over his eyes and let Bucky have his way, coming down his throat far too soon, pleased to find Bucky was more than interested in giving head. Steve had gone without sex for so many years, and the last few hours had broken his drought in the most spectacular fashion. His poor heart was going to burst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Bucky gave him a sly smirk, leaving the room to go to the bathroom with a promise to get them water, he heard the snick of the spare room door and suddenly he had a ball of fur flying at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, bud,” Steve said, as an excited wriggling puppy tried to lick his face, "Sorry, kept you shut up too long hey, you miss me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Cap’s food hitting the bowl in the laundry came a second later and Cap launched off the bed, tail disappearing around the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Traitor.” Steve called and climbed out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweats as he went, knowing he didn't have to be modest and cover up anymore. It was a freeing thought, he hoped Bucky felt the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later he found Bucky in front of the sink, two glasses waiting to be filled as he wrangled with the switch control to get fresh water, when Steve saw one of the bottles of lube on the table that he’d made for Bucky’s arm, and had an awful, brilliant idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Bucky had even figured out Steve was up and about, he’d sidled up behind him, hand slipping down the back of Bucky’s shorts, finger pressed right up against his hole - and waited. Bucky sucked in a breath, going taut with anticipation, fingers gripping the sink, knuckles white, water forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I?” Steve husked as he pressed his body up against Bucky, the aborted nod and breathless ‘yes’ his only response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pressed into him, Bucky still tight, but nowhere near what he’d been the night before. Bucky spread his legs just a bit and his head fell back onto Steve’s shoulder, while his finger was sucked into the waiting heat. Steve kissed down the side of Bucky’s face until he turned, lips meeting, hungry, tongues tangling as Steve began to pump in and out, adding a second finger moments later. His dick gave an attempt to perk up, but he wasn’t a teenager anymore with no refractory period, and that wasn’t why he was doing it anyway. It wasn’t about him, well, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve ripped Bucky’s shorts down until they were resting just under his ass cheeks, giving him better access, less restricting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feel so fucking good around my fingers,” Steve husked as a third one pushed in and Bucky hissed at the fullness, the stretch. “You’re the perfect tightness to take me, milk me dry, god I’m already addicted to being buried in you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have time to worry about what his words might come to mean, how Bucky would take them, because Bucky vibrated, his body shaking as little gasps and beautiful wrecked moans started to leave his throat as Steve’s fingers pumped in and out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant it, sweetheart, I’m going to keep you open all day, do this every hour or so, just so I can slip in any time. Have you ready for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, fuck, Steve…” Bucky moaned as Steve pushed in deep, twisting his fingers, making it feel good, hitting that spot inside of Bucky until he cried out over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to come now baby? Or you want to wait?” Steve husked into Bucky’s ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the whine that tore from Bucky’s throat was perfection, Steve not slowing, or stopping until he got an answer, knowing he could quite literally stand there and fuck Bucky with his fingers for hours. Would like to one day in fact.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait… I want to wait…” Bucky gasped, and Steve complied immediately, pulling his fingers out before kissing Bucky deeply until both of them were dizzy and heaving in breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good choice,” Steve finally remarked with another soft kiss to Bucky’s cheek, “I’m having a shower, want to join me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky spun to face Steve, eyes dazed and completely black, and he licked his lips and nodded dumbly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve was in heaven.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All day Steve found Bucky after he’d finished particular chores, halting whatever Bucky was doing, and pulling his shorts down to bury his fingers in him, keep his hole gaping and ready for when Steve decided it was time. Steve showed tremendous restraint, as he wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Bucky’s heat. And Bucky complied beautifully, biting his lips until they were raw, eyes darkening each time Steve stalked towards him, arching his back when he heard the lid of the lube come off, sighing in contentment when Steve pushed his digits into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to come yet?” Steve asked, always asked as he toyed with Bucky’s hole, and each time Bucky shook his head, voice wavering to say no, he 'wanted to wait’, making Steve rasp, “So good, I’m going to make it so good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve would then leave Bucky a quivering mess, panting, eyes hooded as he walked away, and he felt fifty foot tall, powerful, and proud that Bucky entrusted Steve with his pleasure, that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>allowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> Steve this much sway over him. He was burying all the feelings that welled each time he walked past Bucky, feeling those slate blue eyes follow him, begging within their depths for Steve to relent and bend him over, take him. And Steve wanted to, was desperate for it, but there was something about the build up, waiting, straddling the cusp of desire and pain, becoming too wound up. The culmination of teasing would come to a head spectacularly, and Steve was wrung out just thinking about it, because although it was Bucky’s ass that was getting all of the attention, Steve was walking around trying to sort out his farm with a relentless hard-on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But although it was an endless game of want versus desire all day, Steve actually needed Bucky’s help in the greenhouse. The roof panel wouldn’t stay put and he needed once again to have Bucky’s steady hand to help guide and hold the thick sheeting he’d grabbed from the shed earlier that morning, while Steve fixed it in place. Usually there wouldn’t be an issue, but the storm ensured the usual one man job, had turned into a two man job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you hold it right there?” Steve asked, glad he had two ladders, and Bucky reached up, steadying himself with his knees on the top rung, shirt climbing up over the shorts waistband, and Steve found his eyes catching the slither of skin peeking out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you can see that anytime and this is heavy, eyes up pal.” Bucky teased and Steve shook himself from his fixation of any exposed skin Bucky showed, grinning cheekily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, was just thinking how pretty that skin would look with my teeth marks pressed on it.” He replied, and had to catch the edge of the plastic as it fell to the side, Bucky red, apologetic and clearly losing his concentration. Steve adored it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally he managed to get the roof panel in securely and jumped down, watching as Bucky gingerly started to descend, careful of his knee that still hadn’t recovered properly. And as he stared, he licked his lips and suddenly stood behind Bucky as he climbed down, halting him a few feet off the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve?” Bucky questioned, eyes flitting between Steve’s, widening slightly as he sucked in air, fingers grasping the ladder tighter - knowing what was about to happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t wait, he pulled Bucky’s shorts down and pulled his cheeks apart, hearing the embarrassed moan from slightly above him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re absolutely beautiful here Buck, this hole, it’s the most gorgeous one I’ve ever seen and I want to kiss it, can I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s strangled gasp as Steve ran a finger over the ring of muscle lightly, urged him on, he didn’t have the lube on him to open Bucky up like he'd been doing all day, but he had a tongue, and he wanted to taste, to make Bucky writhe in a different way than on his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, what Buck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God you’re an ass, yes, please, kiss me… there...” Bucky let out a shaky sigh as Steve leant in, licking a long stripe across the rim, the residual taste of lube not unpleasant but tangy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he dove in, holding Bucky apart as much as he could on his position up the ladder. Licking deeply, kissing and sucking, making Bucky’s entire body tremble as he drove his tongue in, swirling it around, tasting the muskiness that was Bucky’s essence. Growling he tried to lick deeper, go further, push his tongue in until his jaw ached and the ladder creaked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His chin was soon covered in spit, dripping down onto his chest, the slurping sounds lost in the storm, but Steve could feel every little tremor through Bucky’s body, every clench and twitch and god he was lost in Bucky. Was becoming more and more enthralled, and it was dangerous ground to tread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back, giving one last long open-mouthed tongue kiss directly over Bucky’s twitching hole, “want to come yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t hear Bucky’s long sigh, but he felt it to his core, “take me to bed Steve, mark me up, make me yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Growling, Steve gripped Bucky around the waist and lifted him from the ladder. The surprised squeak from Bucky making him chuckle. And as Steve strode to the bedroom, Bucky in his arms, he couldn’t help but think that this was all he wanted, to make Bucky his, because - he was, without a doubt, already completely Bucky’s.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s breathing was steady against Steve’s chest where his head was nestled, and he thought for a moment he was asleep, until Bucky moved, reaching up to kiss the underside of Steve’s jaw softly. Steve's breath catching at the intimate gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised you’re still conscious, after well, the three rounds we just had.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chuckle that escaped Bucky’s throat, tired and worn, “you’re good, but not good enough to make me pass out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds like a challenge right there,” Steve said and tightened his arm, pulling Bucky closer to him. Bucky sighed and wrapped himself around Steve further. Closing his eyes, Steve relished the moment, feeling at peace, knowing that for once, he was exactly in the right place and time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The storm sounds like it might slow down, the wind isn’t as howling.” Bucky said quietly and Steve froze, stiffening up, and when he felt Bucky react to him, he forced himself to relax. It was impossible to return to his previous languid state though, Bucky’s words not just a casual observation, Steve knowing the intent behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, maybe a day or so left.” He was pleased to note his voice was steady, even though he felt anything but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… shit, Steve, you know I have to go, don’t you? I can’t leave Pierce and Rumlow out there, ready to hurt another family, town, destroy another city.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inhaling deeply, knowing this day was coming, but hoping it would have been a longer stretch of time, as Bucky hadn't fully recovered, he let out the breath slowly, understanding completely; knowing exactly where Bucky was coming from. Steve couldn’t stop him, didn’t want to, it wasn’t Steve’s place to halt a man’s mission, his righting of a terrible wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Steve said and Bucky’s lips pressed against his collarbone softly, and Steve imagined that there was more emotion behind the simple kiss than just two men falling into each other at the end of the world, finding solace in each other. It felt more to him than that and he had to be content with what Bucky was willing to give, not ask for more. “Which is why I’m coming with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Bucky exclaimed and sat up in bed, looking down at Steve, his eyes moving between Steve’s clearly searching for something, a lie perhaps. “Come with me? That’s… that’s -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- What I’m doing. It’s the right thing. Pierce is in my town, rubbing shoulders with</span>
  <em>
    <span> my </span>
  </em>
  <span>friends, and getting more powerful with every passing day. I don’t want someone like him here, so if we can take him down, and Brock with him, I’m in. I'll help you in any way I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky stared down at him for the longest moment, mouth opening and closing a few times with no words escaping, eyes showing pure disbelief and Steve reached up to cup Bucky’s cheek, to rub his thumb across the skin, adoring the way Bucky leant into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure? I don’t have a real plan yet,” Bucky asked and the small modicum of hope colouring his words calmed Steve, he’d made the right choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to introduce you to a couple of friends, and if, between the four of us, we can’t sort something out, then we’re in trouble. Nat and Sam are the smartest people I know and we’ll find a way to make Pierce pay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By killing him?” Bucky teased, making Steve groan at his initial misjudgment, “You know, since I’m this scary person that hides in the shadows and murders people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckled, “You’re not going to let me live that down are you? And it’s called an assassin, you jerk, plus you’re not clever enough for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Bucky exclaimed, and laughing, he lay back down and curled up against Steve, everything in the world righting itself at the movement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later, Steve realised that Bucky was looking up at him, watching him for the longest time, and about to say something, ask what was wrong, Bucky pushed his face into Steve’s neck, kissing softly, reverently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he husked and Steve squeezed his eyes shut tightly, swallowing down the words that came unbidden to his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sank further down into the mattress, pulling Bucky with him, the new and unspoken words running through his mind, and as Bucky slipped off to sleep, Steve started to make a plan. They’d get Pierce to pay, they had to, because only then would Bucky be free. Free to make new paths, new choices. And Steve just hoped he’d be one of them.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well we are officially over half way now - when did that happen? And I just want to thank you once again for all the wonderful support - I've been absolutely spoiled by the wonderful comments and interest that this little fic has inspired in people. Can't believe I was worried at the lack of Zombies!</p>
<p>I really hope you enjoy the next phase of the story as we follow the boys back to Turnpike and the troubles they may face there. So jump on in :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve looked over at Bucky, noting the ease with which he rode Steve’s farm bike on the open road. The expression on Bucky’s face when he’d wheeled the old bike into the kitchen was equal parts horrified that the greasy, dusty broken cycle was in the space where he prepared their food and gratified that Steve was helping, fixing it up so Bucky would have transport of his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had taken another three days for the storm to dissipate completely, and that time was spent entertaining Cap, repairing the bike, talking over outlandish plans that may or may not work to stitch up Pierce, and having the best sex of Steve’s year. Decade. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Life. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky melted into Steve, took orders so wonderfully, always ready, wanting to try anything new, before upping the ante to give Steve things he’d never tried before, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. It wouldn’t be something Steve would do often, but it was remarkable to share something completely new with Bucky, to be able to give a piece of himself over, be vulnerable. And Steve lost himself for many hours to the intensely intimate sensations.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when he filled Bucky, up against the wall, in the barn, on the bench in the greenhouse and over almost every surface in the house, Steve couldn’t help wonder when he returned home from their mission, if his memories would keep Bucky in his life, burn his image into all these different parts of the farm. Steve wasn’t sure if that was a good or a terrible fact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air was warm as they rode from the farm, the small tug in Steve’s chest at knowing he was riding into Turnpike to help Bucky take down a tyrant, hadn’t let up. If anything the tug was becoming a little more insistent as their time together, just the two of them, neared its end. They’d soon be with Sam and Nat, who were ecstatic to hear Steve was staying with them for a few days, but he’d not mentioned the extra guest though, or why he was coming. Arriving at dusk was risky with the storms that raged through Dead City, but a necessity to keep Bucky’s presence as low-key as possible. He kept mulling over Rollins visit, worried if he’d recognised Bucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve had enough biofuel to get them in and then back to Steve’s farm, hopefully together. He wasn’t willing to expend too much energy worrying what would happen once they’d figured out how to make Pierce pay for his crimes; what Bucky would do, where he’d choose to go afterwards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before too long, Dead City loomed up in front of them, Bucky pulling in behind Steve to follow him through the pathways he knew as well as the back of his hand, to safely get them through with no punctured tyres or mishaps. A small yap came from over his shoulder, Cap sitting up in his backpack watching over Steve’s shoulder, having travelled enough with him to know how to behave on a ride. It was good to be able to bring him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve didn’t want to glance over to the area where he’d found Bucky, broken, shattered, bloody and half dead but he couldn’t help it, having only been a handful of weeks since, but feeling much longer. Bucky’s knee was the only true concern to his recovery now, still stiff and sore, not bending to its full range, and Steve was hoping that they’d be able to get him in to see Dr Cho, if she could make a house call in the dead of night. All they had left was the element of surprise, but with Rollin’s untimely appearance, Steve wasn’t sure they’d even have that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d have to keep a low profile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve could smell the acid storm in the air, which would be why Cap stirred, and Steve knew they’d get through Dead City with more than enough time to spare, but he didn’t lessen their pace, glancing back only twice to ensure Bucky was on his tail, he was, and Steve had to trust his instincts that Bucky had been around long enough that he knew what to do if he got into trouble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he still kept an ear out for the high pitched whine of the bike following him, he also had a feeling Cap would alert him if Bucky fell behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they reached Turnpikes’ city limits, Steve took a roundabout way to get to Sam and Nat’s. They were expecting him the next day, not to turn up in the dead of night, but he knew they’d be fine with it once he’d explained what he was doing there. Once he explained Bucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The roads weren’t busy, a blessing and a curse, the lack of traffic could mean they’d stick out or alternatively slip through as no one was around. Steve didn’t know, so he continued to wind them through streets, having explained to Bucky before leaving their farm that was his intent.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally they rounded a corner when Steve stopped and shut down his engine; Bucky followed suit, pulling up next to Steve then looked at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For one second Steve thought Bucky was reaching out to touch his face, his heart thrilling, but then Cap’s little head appeared, licking Bucky’s fingers as he rubbed under his chin asking him how the ride was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you asking Cap if he’s alright? What about me?” Steve grumped good naturedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s fingers were suddenly under Steve’s chin rubbing, “you a good boy, you like your ride into town?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve, instead of laughing, felt something in his gut perk up at the words, somewhat of a revelation to look at later since he was the one who liked control. He smiled crookedly and pulled his head out of Bucky’s grasp and chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, they’re a few blocks over, best we don’t roar in on our bikes to a quiet street.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds fair,” Bucky climbed off and they walked next to each other talking quietly about the ride in and the acid storms that went through the Dead City, both not mentioning that was where Steve found Bucky and if he hadn’t, what that could have meant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon they were walking down the drive of a small single story freestanding house with a large yard, Sam and Nat managing to secure it a few years earlier through Turnpikes’ housing allotment. Steve motioned them around to the back yard where he parked their bikes out of view from the road. It was probably overkill, but he wanted to take all precautions. Pierce and his ‘men’ knew he was close with Nat and Sam and could potentially come sniffing around. He’d hide the bikes better the next day if need be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky suddenly grabbed his arm, and motioned his head towards the back door. Steve looked up to see Natasha, rifle pointed in their direction, the light shining from behind her creating a bright red halo around her head, she didn’t look happy to have two men in her backyard in the dead of night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d best back on out of here,” she ordered levelly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends of yours right?” Bucky hissed out the side of his mouth which made Cap bark excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rifle wavered, “Steve?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve held up a hand and waved, “Uh, surprise. Sorry, I... </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> decided to come early.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nat lowered the gun completely and cocked her hip as they stepped into the light, “what the fuck Rogers? Why the hell are you showing up in the dead of night with…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we come in?” Steve finished, without saying more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t respond, looking pissed that he’d dodged the question, but still stepped aside, standing or her tiptoes to give Steve a peck on the cheek and Cap a quick scratch as they walked past, she eyed Bucky with interest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Man, you’re early, risking Dead City at dusk is…” Sam started then stopped, looking between Steve and Bucky, “... oh, you brought company?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nat, Sam, this is James, err, Bucky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky smiled and inclined his head a little, “nice to meet you, sorry to barge in like this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam, polite as always, smiled broadly and shook Bucky’s hand with a ‘nice to meetcha’, yet Nat kept a close eye on him not saying anything, Steve shook his head, she’d not changed a bit. Still stupidly over protective.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve let Cap out of the backpack who immediately snuffled his way around the room for a pat, of which everyone complied, before disappearing out the backyard to presumably do his business and re-mark his territory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Little late in the evening to be introducing us to your date, don’t you think?” Nat said with the hint of a smirk, trust her to pick up how Steve felt within only seconds, he had no idea where her intuition came from. But it was uncanny. He’d barely looked Bucky’s way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s been staying with me for a few weeks,” Steve started, and noticed the way Sam’s attention honed in on Bucky, his interest now more than passing, working out who he was. “And though it’s not really fair to ask, we need your help, if you can give it. Just hear us out and see what you think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam’s eyebrows were so high on his head, Steve was waiting to be heckled, but instead, he went to the cupboard, grabbed 4 glasses and Nat was already grabbing the bottle of small batch gin a friend, Frank, made in his backyard, and motioned them to the kitchen table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t sure how long they sat, telling the tale, all of it, albeit he kept their recent </span>
  <em>
    <span>closeness</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of the explanation (though Nat seemed to have already worked that part out). He explained Rollins’ visit and the way he found Bucky in the Dead City, and once Bucky had told them what Pierce had ordered on his town and how they’d covered it up, Steve noticed Natasha’s fingers had turned white from gripping the tabletop hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was Pierce?” She gritted out, and before Steve could ask if she was okay, she kept speaking, “do you know if he’s done this before?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky eyed her thoughtfully, and something unseen exchanged between them when he nodded, and he saw the minute slump in her shoulders before Nat straightened up again; resolve in her features. If Steve had to hazard a guess, Natasha had experience with the attempt at energy harnessing before, had lost someone. It made Steve realise that he really didn’t know everyone, could never </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> everyone’s stories, only what they chose to share. It made his connection with Bucky all that much stronger. They’d shared a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A quiet knock at the backdoor shook them all from their conversation, and Bucky and Steve stood up quickly, ready to flee out the front of the house, but Natasha rolled her eyes and told them to ‘calm down’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next second, a familiar head poked around the corner and Helen walked in, large bag in hand and a curious expression on her face as she took in Bucky and Steve, standing on edge, tense and worried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Steve,” she greeted and Steve relaxed, noticing that Bucky took his lead and did the same. “This the patient?” She asked immediately, always professional, always seeking out who she was there to help. It’s why he admired her greatly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, this is Bucky,” he looked at Nat who nodded and realised she’d called Helen earlier on the radio when she’d gone to get them supper. “I’ll let Bucky tell you himself, but in my not so professional opinion I think his knee is damaged, the ligaments or tendons perhaps, I’ve been giving him anti inflammatories and pain relief, but I think it’s deeper than that, and also I’m hoping you can help with this…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve gestured to Bucky’s backpack, who looked concerned and slightly less enthused about the Dr standing before him, and Steve wondered if he’d had bad experiences in the past. Getting a metal prosthetic would not have been an easy or pleasant experience. Yet Bucky still pulled out his arm, and Helen’s expression changed from caution to awe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh gosh, I haven’t seen one like this in years, look at the craftsmanship, the lines, did you have full dexterity in your fingers? I think some of these endings are fried but I might have something that would work… if you’re interested?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky nodded slowly and his eyes darted to Steve who tilted his head indecipherably, and soon Helen had pulled Bucky into the lounge room to see what she could do for him. Steve watched them go, trepidation at letting Bucky out of his sight taking hold, but Cap meandered in after them and it made Steve feel a little better. Bucky wasn’t alone in there with a stranger, hopefully having Cap’s presence would calm him, especially if he didn’t like Dr’s. But Helen had the loveliest bedside manner so he wasn’t too concerned. Just the usual amount, which was a lot more than he’d expected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, seems’ like the forever eligible bachelor Steve Rogers has been snapped up, he’s off the market, in love.” Nat teased and Steve shushed her, looking to the other room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not so loud,” Steve pleaded, the word love jarring in his brain, he didn’t, </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s got a bionic arm not an ear.” Nat deadpanned and Sam scoffed, starting to clear up the dishes, and Steve felt his cheeks heat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s... it’s just complicated that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t it always?” Nat placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed it tightly, “he’s been through a lot, will go through more, but the difference is, before he was alone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span> he has you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does</span>
  <em>
    <span> he</span>
  </em>
  <span> know that?” Steve asked, trying not to let the pining note he felt escape into the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t know? How many times have you fu -”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Nat,” Sam laughed, interrupting her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” she smiled in the soft way that she only ever showed Sam, and Steve wondered if he too had one that was reserved for someone special, he glanced towards the lounge room. “Let’s just say if he doesn’t know, he soon will, because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, Steve. You won’t let him do this alone and you’re as stubborn as all get out. Just don’t follow him out into the wider world, we need you here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve turned, and pulled her into a side hug, the top of her head barely coming to his shoulders. But would he? Would Steve leave everything and follow Bucky into the wild, just to be with him, to help him? He didn’t know. And that right there shook him to his very foundations. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nat, have you heard anything like this before? People attempting to harness energy pockets?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stiffened up to such a degree he let her go and she started to wipe down the table with a damp cloth, quiet. Sam motioned behind her back in the universal cut-it-out gesture, but he shrugged, the question already out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s best to leave my past buried, but, I’m in, we need to take Pierce down. Between the four of us, we’ll be able to figure out a plan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A small body suddenly sidled up to Nat, as if Cap could sense the change in atmosphere from the other room, his little paw’s jumping up catching on her knee, and she bent down, hugging Cap to her body, her face hidden a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five, I mean the five of us will work out a plan. Isn’t that right Cap?” Cap wriggled into a better position and then flopped, eyes peeking up at Nat, seeking the all important belly-rub.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve chuckled when Nat relented and tickled him relentlessly, Cap enjoying every second immensely; and heard Sam tell her that they weren’t getting a dog, but he said it with a grin and knew that Cap would soon have a little friend to play with. Or would he leave Cap here and go with Bucky? If he’d have him. If he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve to follow, wanted Steve. His stomach churned in uncertainty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam came back to the table with a familiar square blue box and Steve groaned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you be giving me crap about this. They’re going to be a while in there and we need to do something.” Sam started to carefully pull out the board and small pie like pieces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, the only Dr I know is Cho, not Who.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you talking about - see you know Dr Who already. Now who was better? Eccleston or Tennant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do know that Television doesn’t exist anymore right? And we’ve never seen any of this?” Sam just gave him a flat look and Steve sighed, “Fine, I like the name Tennant. So I’ll say Darren Tennant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam rolled his eyes, muttering ‘David’ under his breath and Steve caught Nat’s eye, both of them smiling. He glanced once more at the closed door to the lounge where Bucky was with Helen and settled in, it was going to be a long night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve was awake, couldn’t sleep even though it was early morning and he found himself staring at the space next to him that was void of a body, wondering if Nat had purposely placed them in the spare room together and not made up a bed on the sofa for one of them. Assuming with no words spoken that Steve and Bucky were, not really together, but taking comfort with the other. Swallowing down his desire for more, for something he couldn’t ask for right now, he flopped onto his back to stare up at the roof in the soft muted light of the bedside lamp. He’d left it on for when Bucky finished up with Helen, to navigate his way to bed in an unfamiliar room, with Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t wound up with anticipation to see Bucky alone, hence why he was still awake. Steve had become so used to being able to touch him at any time, to reach out, hold Bucky in his arms, take him apart with his fingers, his mouth, his dick, and for the majority of their day they’d been travelling, then arrived at Nat and Sam’s. Steve hated the burning sensation in his gut, knowing it was caused by missing Bucky, the closeness of another humans’ warmth, of having that unspoken support. How had he come to rely on it so heavily? He’d been alone too long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re still awake?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Startled, Steve sat up to see Bucky staring at him with a soft smile, his eyes travelling down Steve’s bare torso with interest. Steve had a shower before bed to clean off the dust and stench that came from travelling through the Dead City and hadn’t bothered to get changed, there was no point. Bucky had seen it all, and then some.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Couldn’t sleep,” Steve responded and hoped Bucky wouldn’t pick up on why. Then he noticed that Bucky slid in and shut the door, with his </span>
  <em>
    <span>left </span>
  </em>
  <span>hand. “Holy shit, she managed to reattach your arm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky held up his newly attached arm, metal fingers stiff and ungainly, yet moving and wriggling with purpose. But it was the rapturous expression on Bucky’s face that stole Steve’s breath, made him not even look at the arm again, as impressive as it was. He wanted to drink in the smile, the softness, the tired layered with happiness. Bucky was breathtaking and Steve was completely lost in him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a bit stiff and it pinches a little at the join, but that’s to be expected. I just need to check in with Helen in a day, she’s honestly a miracle worker. I haven’t seen backyard grafting of that calibre in years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve felt the smallest pang of unwarranted jealousy rise up at the clear awe in Bucky’s voice, and swallowed it down. Helen was married and if he were honest, Steve knew by the way Bucky was staring at him right then, that he found Steve desirable. It was clear by the darkening of his eyes and the way he licked his lips unintentionally that sealed it. Steve felt himself harden without any provocation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blanket hid nothing and Bucky smirked, “give me a few minutes, I’m going to have a shower, and don’t you dare start without me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve grinned and slid his hand underneath the blankets and hissed as he grasped his dick and stroked firmly a few times, shutting his eyes, playing up to the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a goddamn tease.” Bucky husked, but when Steve looked up, Bucky appeared to be on the cusp of walking over, but thought better of it and quickly left for the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve lay there, lazily stroking himself without intent, vivid pictures playing out in his mind on what he planned to do; having every intention of sucking Bucky down. It was too late to open him up properly for more, plus having Sam and Nat just down the hall meant he’d also not be able to make Bucky scream like he could on the near deserted farm. And Bucky </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> loud, and Steve needed to keep him quiet somehow. Then a delicious idea hit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was back soon enough, oblivious to Steve’s thoughts, waltzing in with a towel wrapped around himself and dirty clothes in a ball under his arm. “God that felt great, having a shower with two hands makes the whole ordeal much quicker.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve raised a brow and crooked his finger, “come here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mood immediately shifted to something thick and heavy, full of anticipation and Bucky dropped the towel, walking over unabashedly naked as Steve pushed the blankets to the end of the bed so he was spread out on the sheets, waiting. When Bucky hesitated with a question in his darkened eyes, Steve grabbed his metal hand and tugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This okay? Sorry I should have asked if I could touch -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“- yeah, Steve, it’s fine.” Bucky said in a breathless tone, indicating people usually didn’t want to, or shied away from it. Steve would never. He adored everything about Bucky. Not one thing could ever change that. The deeper meaning behind his thoughts would have to wait as Bucky climbed onto Steve and slid down, slotting himself against him fully, lips finding Steve’s with intent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed into it, feeling looser, more at ease, right for the first time since they’d left the farm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s lips were soft and warm from the shower, like he’d put his face under the stream, and Steve didn’t wait, pushing his tongue in, seeking a different heat. Bucky moaned into it, wriggling on Steve, their dicks aligning in a way that made Steve grind up, wanting more friction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God you feel so good, it’s been a long day,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s mouth as they took a breath, while Bucky’s hips started to pump, each thrust making Steve hiss in pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wanted your lips on me all day,” Bucky revealed as he pressed back in, their tongues dancing with each other, both trying to get as close as possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve had no idea how long they ground slowly, kissing deeply, not hurried, just enjoying skin on skin contact and Steve was losing his head at the way Bucky’s metal thumb brushed against his cheek as they kissed. Bucky held his face gently, dipping in to kiss him before moving back to push his hips down, creating the much desired contact, and even though Steve could have taken their dicks in hand using the bottle of lube he’d stashed away, he didn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to suck you, is that okay sweetheart?” He asked and watched in interest as Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed for a second before he nodded and cleared his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’d… I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, but I want your pretty lips wrapped around me too.” Steve made it into an order of sorts, his finger pressing hard against Bucky’s lips, whose tongue flicked out, and Steve pulled down, opening Bucky’s jaw, leaning forward and shoving his tongue in deeply, taking what he wanted until Bucky was breathless and moaning gorgeously, just like the embodiment of perfection he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He released Bucky without notice, and dazed, Bucky made a mournful sound before he realised Steve was flipping him in the opposite direction and then he went without protest. The side lying position better for being lazy and tired as they were, but still perfectly placed to get each other off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s stomach swooped when he came face to face with Bucky’s hard dick, wet and red in want, and although he could feel Bucky’s firm grip around his own dick, he couldn’t help but lean forward, tasting the saltiness on the tip. Bucky shivered at the soft flick of tongue, so Steve didn’t wait, taking Bucky as deep as he could. Wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist, one under his weight against the bed the other over, his hands trailed up to find Bucky’s thighs and Steve held on. The angle wasn’t amazing, both being tall, but damn was he going to make it work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only as Steve began to suck, tasting Bucky, bobbing his head, that Bucky let out an aborted groan and suddenly Steve’s dick was engulfed, heat and saliva surrounding him, Bucky holding Steve the same way around his thighs, torso’s lining up almost perfectly for the position and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> there was nothing quite like having his dick deep in Bucky’s mouth while he had Bucky’s cock down in his own throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lying on their side gave them the room they needed to pull back, catch their breath, allowing their hips to pump, fucking into each other’s mouths - using the other, and Steve was in heaven, in bliss, but he still wanted to try something more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked his fingers down Bucky’s trembling legs, closer and closer to his hole before reaching between the muscled thighs and pulling them apart, managing to stick the digits into his mouth alongside Bucky’s dick, pulling Bucky even closer to do so. Bucky’s fresh scent surrounded him as he sucked, dribbling out the corner of his full mouth and when satisfied, he held Bucky’s cheeks open with his palms and gently pressed both slick index fingers an inch into his heat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky wailed around his dick, the extra vibrations making Steve inhale harder and Bucky’s thrusts started in earnest. Steve pushed his fingers in and out, going deeper and further with each pass when suddenly Bucky reciprocated, and Steve saw literal stars. His vision whited out as Bucky’s nimble fingers, one warm and one slightly cooler (and damn he was going to explore that further) were pressing against him, seeking entrance and Steve let his thighs fall open in the universal gesture of ‘continue’. And god was he glad he did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was masterful, not giving Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> much as his body wasn’t used to it, but enough to make Steve pop off Bucky’s dick and rest his forehead just above the juncture of Bucky’s thigh, inhaling the thick musk that was uniquely Bucky, enjoying both the penetration and the attention his dick was having lathered upon it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took too long to remember and come back into himself that he was still two fingers deep into Bucky, and the angle was suddenly perfect. Pulling himself up slightly and craning his neck whilst yanking Bucky’s hips forward he flicked his tongue out, catching the rim of Bucky’s ass. At the guttural out of control moan the small taste elicited, Steve went all in. Shoving his tongue as far as he could into Bucky’s hole that he held open with his fingers, while Bucky’s dick slapped and ground against his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky stopped sucking almost immediately, was incoherent with cries, but his mouth was stuffed full of Steve and he didn’t attempt to remove his dick, in fact he just held it, inhaling around it, his throat swallowing rapidly and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Steve managed to slide forward an extra inch into his mouth, Bucky taking it, breaths coming in faster and Steve was straddling the edge in mere seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Knowing he wasn’t going to last long, he gave Bucky’s hole one last filthy open mouthed kiss, then pushed his fingers back in, fucking Bucky as he writhed, making Steve slide impossibly deeper into his mouth, and seeing white on the edge of his vision, Steve sucked Bucky’s weeping dick, pumping his fingers in and out of his body, just the way Bucky liked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile Bucky was whimpering, only one of his fingers still pressed into Steve, unmoving, he was too caught up in his own pleasure, but it worked in Steve’s favour, ground him for a moment, meant he could concentrate on making Bucky come first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But his plan was soon foiled, Bucky with a gasp and a slight choking noise, took Steve to the hilt and pushed his finger into Steve as far as it would go, and Steve couldn’t help the jerk to his hips, certain the head of his cock was pressed against the back of Bucky’s throat. And through the sharp hissing breaths of Bucky’s nose, Steve felt himself reach the edge and start to fall, every swallow retracting on his dick and he was on fire from the inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Bucky went stiff, and Steve’s mouth was full, gulping Bucky’s release down, and maybe it was Bucky letting go, relaxing and sighing further, but within only a minute or so, Steve’s hips jerking as carefully as he was able, trying not to overwhelm or hurt Bucky, he was coming. Hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Afterwards, neither of them moved for the longest time, both hugging each other in the intimate kiss, both with softening dicks in their mouths, panting and in complete bliss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve soon realised that the fire in his chest hadn’t dissipated at all, if anything it was starting to consume him. And even as they cleaned up, Bucky’s mouth red and voice raspy, Steve grabbing the blankets back up and tucking Bucky into his arms, he worried about the strange sensation and wondered if he should seek out Helen himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was when Bucky sleepily smiled up at him and pressed his lips against Steve’s collar bone before whispering, ‘night, Stevie’ that he understood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stunned he lay motionless as Bucky’s breathing evened out into sleep, and Steve’s eyes jumped around in the now darkened room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no,” he breathed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve was in love. He was completely in love with Bucky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was not supposed to happen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello all - well it's that time again (I feel this is going really quickly but also slow if that makes sense!) But here is the plotty plot that was promised as these four team up and execute a plan (good or bad, I'll let you guys be the judge of that!)</p><p>The next few chapters would not be nearly as coherant without the help of the amazing <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue"> darter_blue</a> - you're a doll &lt;3</p><p>Thanks again for the love you've been showering this story and me - honestly it's been wonderful having you all along for the ride :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve woke up alone, and instead of jumping up to see where the others were, spent a long moment staring at the roof gathering his thoughts, trying to get a handle on his newly awakened feelings. How he’d not realised earlier that he was head over heels for Bucky was ridiculous and honestly a little naive. Steve hadn’t allowed anyone close in the longest time, had continually held people at arms’ length, not feeling connections often, if ever. But Bucky, in a blaze of blood and pain had trampled into his life, unconscious, and unintentionally shattered the walls Steve had built around himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never had a chance, not really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course Steve would fall in love with the one person who drifted across the country with no fixed address, seeking revenge on a group of men who’d destroyed his life. Sighing heavily, Steve knew he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>already</span>
  </em>
  <span> self-sabotaging what was between them before they’d even begun, before they’d even talked about what they were. He could always ask, Steve knew this - but their attraction was off the charts and staring with a flurry of sex, passion and heat, with little to nothing said, Steve wasn’t certain if it could translate to more. Of course Steve hoped so, could see himself spending a lifetime loving Bucky, but since Bucky hadn’t mentioned or hinted at it, he’d left well alone, not wanting to rock the precarious boat of… them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of being the adult he proclaimed to be and bringing up the future first, left him cold, tensed up with a ball of pressure building in his chest - what if Bucky said that it was just a bit of fun, two guys making each other feel good (</span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good) in a situation they’d been thrust into? That it meant nothing at all?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t ready to face it, not now that he understood the breadth and depth of his feelings, so in typical Roger’s fashion, he figured he’d deal with it later, when there was no choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right then though, that day, they had Pierce and Brock to sort out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was that thought that galvanised Steve into action and he climbed out of bed feeling deliciously sated after their early morning activities. He shrugged off his musings on a future as the taste of Bucky remained faintly lay on his tongue, toes tingling at the thought of fucking into Bucky’s mouth while sucking him at the same time. If they got the chance, Steve definitely wanted to revisit that scenario again. And again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve found Nat and Bucky deep in conversation, heads close together at the kitchen table, neither looking up as he walked in, completely oblivious to anything around them. He came to a standstill, heart in his throat, the knowledge that the man he loved sat right before him, a man who had no idea how deeply he’d carved a spot into Steve’s heart. A poking at his shin shook Steve from looking like a lovestruck idiot as Cap vied for attention, circling around his legs. Steve bent down for a quick pat before spying Sam out the window in the backyard, hiding their bikes in the shed and went out to help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Sam greeted when Steve slid out the back door and grasped the handles of his Harley, pushing it into a space Sam had carved out for it amongst the mess in his shed. “Did you know your boyfriend has four knives stashed on his bike?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckled and shook his head fondly, “I didn’t, but I’m not surprised. Morning.” Steve looked back at the house, “are they okay in there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam grabbed some old sheets and began to cover the bikes up, “yeah, they’ve been up for hours, it was a little tense at first, but they found a starting point and went from there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was quiet for a beat as he checked and ensured the fuel cells on the bikes were detached to save them from potentially leaking. He had a feeling they were going to need all the energy they could get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think Nat was from Bucky’s town?” Steve asked without preamble, already fairly certain of the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” Sam finally said and frowned, “But it’s not my story to tell, Nat doesn’t talk much about her old life, and I don’t think I even know an </span>
  <em>
    <span>eighth</span>
  </em>
  <span> of what she went through before she landed in Turnpike. But maybe. I wouldn’t push her if I were you for an answer though. An important thing I learnt a while ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nodded at Sam’s wry smile and sage advice and before he could speak further, Nat was leaning out the back door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on in, we have a plan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve followed Sam, clicking the shed door firmly shut behind him and wondered what on earth Nat and Bucky came up with that would constitute a plan.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few hours, and many amendments by a level-headed Steve to a relatively flimsy plan later, Steve was poised on the threshold of Pierce’s office as Sam stood across the street pretending to be interested in the community board. Nat and Bucky were hopefully at Pierce’s home residence scoping out possible security and, with any luck, had already made it inside to find something they could use against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had no idea if Pierce would hold onto incriminating evidence, and if they found nothing, then they were in trouble - doubly so if caught in the act. Pierce had a high standing in the community, whether he deserved it or not. The Guardian, the town elected authority of law in Turnpike, wouldn’t look too kindly on their group creating trouble, and none of them needed to be incarcerated, not when the stakes were so high.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d decided that Steve would be the distraction, there to ensure Pierce didn’t leave the office and return home unexpectedly, since Steve had the only legitimate excuse to be visiting. He held the small bag of drugs tighter, never enjoying his run-ins with the self proclaimed chief of traders out of Turnpike, hating the way Pierce had changed the way people could trade goods. Yet nobody spoke up, nobody stopped him; Steve disliked the knowledge that he could have, and didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking in a deep breath for courage, he pushed in through the door, not looking back at Sam, trusting that he had his back if the plan to keep Pierce inside failed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The office was a converted house where they’d cleared the first large bedroom to the right of the hall into a space currently full of goods. Steve caught a glimpse of blankets, batteries and ration packs, hating to guess at how many helpful items were in that one room that would be better distributed to the community, let alone what the other closed off areas in the house were hiding. Steve continued down the hall, passing the empty waiting area and spared a moment to wonder where Brock, Rollins and the others were, before finally coming across Pierce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older man was sitting back in his chair, feet propped up on the table, staring out the window, smoking a pipe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steven,” Pierce greeted, not seeming to be surprised at his appearance, “you don’t have an appointment today do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shrewd eyes landed on Steve, and the sudden smell of sweetness hit him, Pierce had laced his pipe with something, the cloying scent made Steve’s nose tickle and he tried to mask his reaction as best he could. It was probably not a great idea to look offended at Pierce’s habits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t aware that I needed one to bring you this.” He held up the bag, Pierce’s eyes honing in on it with a hungry almost manic gaze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Interesting.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you don’t, take a seat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sat immediately without complaint, not missing the way Pierce’s eyes widened slightly, before returning to casual indifference. Maybe he’d messed up already? Steve never stayed, was always in a hurry to get out, hated being in the closed space with the older man. Nerves roiled in his stomach, he wasn’t used to trying to fool someone, had he tipped Pierce off already?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, where are the other guys?” Steve asked and could have face palmed himself for the question, it was too sharp, too enquiring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wrinkled brow rose, “I was under the impression you had no </span>
  <em>
    <span>interest </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Brock?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t,” Steve replied and tried not to wince at the adamant note in his voice tinged with disgust, he needed to rein it in, “just wanted to make sure Rollins got back safe last week, I haven’t seen him around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pierce eyed him a moment, taking his feet off the table and faced Steve, putting his pipe in a holder then steepling his fingers as he stared directly at him. Steve could see why people cowed to him, why they listened, believed his lies. He had a very compelling demeanor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Around? You’ve been in town a few days then?” Pierce gave a wolfish knowing grin, but didn’t allow Steve to respond. “Jack will be okay, a few small… bumps, nothing we can’t handle, he’s resting up with the other boys at my estate. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled at your concern of his wellbeing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pierce pinned him with a look and Steve wasn’t sure how to respond, “uh, that’s good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that the rest of my medication you have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nodded relieved at the change in topic, yet also trying not to react in any way to the realisation that Pierce’s house wasn’t empty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he hoped Nat and Bucky were okay. As his brain went into overdrive at the unexpected news that the others wouldn’t be currently finding the evidence they needed, he came up with an idea he hoped would work in their favour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He passed over the bag, but held it a second longer as Pierce grasped the other end, both holding it aloft until Pierce quirked a brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Due to the storms lately, I haven’t been able to produce enough base to make your usual dosage. This is only half strength, so you should double your dose over the next few days. Maybe take four doses tonight, that should get the right levels into your system, then drop back to three tomorrow and then two the next night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pierce looked in the bag and pulled out the jar, looking between Steve and it. He managed to keep his expression impassive, the paste was full strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks exactly the same as usual to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yes, you can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> the drug.” Steve made sure his voice had the smallest amount of mock in it, knowing it would annoy Pierce and that he’d not question the drug any more and do as Steve asked to save face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Pierce mimicked back in the same tone and Steve stood, the question on Pierce’s face only barely concealed at Steve’s sudden movement. Since Nat and Bucky wouldn’t be able to get inside, Steve wanted to get out of the office as soon as he could, not enjoying Pierce’s presence for long. There was something about the way he sized Steve up, like he was going to try and use him for his own gains. And the fact Steve was one of only four manufacturers of medications for Turnpike, probably meant Pierce was looking for an angle, something to hold over Steve to bend him to his will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, well I’ll catch you next fortnight when I’m back in town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds fair,” Pierce paused for a second, then fixed his gaze directly onto Steve, “Maybe next time you could introduce me to your new house guest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knew his steps faltered as he turned to walk out, gut turning sour at the note in Pierce’s voice, it wasn’t a question, it was a statement, “No one to introduce, it’s just me out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s strange, my mistake.” Pierce somehow made the skin crawl up Steve’s neck with his tone. Steve waved insincerely and hightailed it out of there, they had to regroup and change tactics. Pierce definitely knew Bucky was alive. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you and James can go to the house and Sam and I will do the office tonight. Or we can swap - whatever you want.” Nat said simply when Steve blurted out his concerns on their plan and that Pierce was well aware, in his opinion that Bucky was there in town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> call me Bucky you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Nat said simply, clear in her voice she’d keep calling him James, it finally made Steve smile and Bucky returned it, sending a thrill up his spine at their shared look. That they could communicate without words now was a revelation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this afternoon at Pierce’s you overheard Brock, Samuel and Joe talking about going out towards Liberty Marshes on some fact finding mission?” Steve asked, trying to clarify what they’d found out, “Which is great, means they’re out of the picture at least for tonight, but what about Rollins? Where was he? Pierce mentioned he was banged up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Banged up is an understatement, Brock is pissed, was mouthing off about how Rollins might die from inhaling cluster particles, I think he’s in the hospice, he wasn’t at Pierces’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, well I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, I’ve seen what particle poisoning can do and it’s… well, regardless, it’s good news about Rumlow, if the others are gone for the night, that gives us a little more freedom. Now we just have to hope Pierce takes the medicine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent the remainder of the afternoon equal parts worrying and interspersing it by playing games and trying to work out strategies on what to do if things went south. Steve telling Bucky on multiple occasions they didn’t have the resources to </span>
  <em>
    <span>smash</span>
  </em>
  <span> their way out, even with a metal arm on hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So that’s how Steve and Bucky wound up patiently watching Pierce’s house from the adjacent property in the dark a few hours later, observing lights turning on and off as Pierce walked through the house thankfully alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long until the drugs kick in?” Bucky whispered, the softness in his voice against Steve’s ear made him swing his head to the side so he could look directly at Bucky in the low light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him to take four doses, so he’ll probably take six, he should be knocked out soon enough. He took it, what - about five minutes ago?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nodded and didn’t look away, continuing to stare and Steve couldn’t help himself and leant in quickly to press his lips against Bucky’s, feeling the shocked inhale at his unexpected show of affection, and Steve worried for a second he’d crossed an invisible boundary. But Bucky opened his mouth immediately, pushing forward, tongue snaking into Steve’s mouth and for a moment in time he forgot they were sitting in someone else’s yard staring at a house they were going to break into as soon as the owner finally passed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how long they kissed for, but long enough that his pants became too tight and Steve honestly thought about jerking them both off, but there was a time and a place, and where they were, was not it. (But it didn’t stop him imagining it - quite vividly).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Steve, you know exactly how to make me lose my head don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve preened under the words, glad to hear the confession and leant in once more to swipe his tongue into Bucky’s hot and willing mouth, groaning when Bucky bit down playfully, giving as good as he got.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s my goal in life,” Steve responded then froze, the words sounding too much like a vow, and as Bucky stared at him wide eyed, Steve broke formation, “Pierce hasn’t left his room for a while now, he’d be out like a light. Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky opened his mouth as if to say something but instead nodded his head and followed Steve across the deserted road to the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ease of entering Pierce’s house seemed a little anticlimactic after all of their preparations and run throughs of scenarios on what would happen if they were caught. The back door was simple to jimmy open, and the way to Pierce’s home office was clear. And while Bucky started his methodical and thorough search of the room, Steve left him to it and looked around the rest of the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pierce lived well beyond his means, his wealth apparent in the things he collected, and Steve felt annoyance turn into something that resembled hatred as he looked on at basic technology that would make Turnpike and it’s poorer inhabitants lives easier. The amount of fuel cells alone in one room would power the entire city for six months, it was a disgusting show of ego.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for all of the extra information Steve found, he didn’t find anything incriminating, other than Pierce being a douche and not helping the less fortunate. And even as he crept into Pierce’s bedroom, the older man snoring in a deep sleep, Steve, who’d held reservations at drugging him in the first place, no longer felt bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He met Bucky back in the office, who shrugged in defeat at him and Steve felt hopelessness well up, he’d failed Bucky, they were supposed to find something, he was supposed to help, to make things right - it’s what Steve did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he was about to call it quits, he noticed the desk for the first time and it was familiar. Really familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His grandfather’s friend Roy had one just like it, and as kid Steve used to visit and Roy would always put a sweet treat somewhere within it, and tell Steve to find it in one of the five hidden compartments, </span>
  <em>
    <span>without</span>
  </em>
  <span> telling Steve how these compartments worked. He’d forgotten all about it until that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky scowled at the situation, annoyance rolled off him in waves, along with a resigned look in his eyes, but Steve just held up a finger, telling him to wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Making his way to the desk, Bucky sidled up behind him, pressing himself close and whispered, “I’ve checked, there’s nothing here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on,” Steve replied and reached up under the side of the desk, finding a slight difference in the feel of the wood, and he pressed and slid at the same time. A compartment opened immediately and Bucky’s wide shocked eyes were worth not telling him what he was up to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dropped to his knee and reached back and up to feel paper, he could tell immediately without seeing it, that it was old, felt the coarseness and fragility under his fingertips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully he pulled out the large pieces, there were four all up, two very old, the others relatively new parchment, though not as smooth as what Steve could make. Bucky looked them over quickly, his mouth forming a thin line, before sliding the paper carefully into his backpack, they only just fit without folding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve closed the secret hideyhole again with a snick, then caught Bucky’s attention and jerked his head to the side, indicating they should go and Bucky stared for a moment, lost in thought, and finally nodded in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They slipped out, locked the door and started the trek back to Nat and Sam’s. Bucky was quiet and the few attempts that Steve made to chat went unanswered, so he walked beside Bucky in silence wondering what the hell he was thinking about.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So we found nothing? Nothing at all we can use?” Nat exclaimed and threw her hands in the air. “I need a drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make it four,” Sam said, his voice also discouraged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky said nothing and Steve placed a hand on his thigh under the table, watching as Bucky shook his head as if coming back into the moment, and Steve wanted to desperately ask where he kept slipping to, but didn’t want to in front of the others. Bucky gave Steve a wry smile and looked back down at the wisps of faded paper and schematics before them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything they grabbed was interesting, no doubt, and showed a plan for Pierce to corner the market in Turnpike as a trader, but any mention of Bucky’s town, or harnessing energy no longer existed, if it ever had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve could feel the disappointment that almost suffocated him from Natasha’s way, but what worried him was the lack of emotion from Bucky. It was eerie and Steve wanted to see </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> even a balled up fist. But there was nothing. Bucky just kept looking over the four large sheets that held the schematics for what looked like farming equipment. Definitely not a machine to harness energy from underneath the earth’s crust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do we do now?” Sam asked and jumped backwards along with Natasha and Steve when Bucky finally yelled and wiped his arm across the table, scattering papers everywhere. Cap had no idea what was going on and skidded across the papers, flicking them up behind his little paws as he made a bee-line to Bucky, who just picked up the squirming puppy, burying his face in his fur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s fingers itched, his heart raced at the unusual display of anger, knowing it wasn’t a normal state of being for Bucky. And after chasing Pierce down for so long, having gone through the horror of being beaten and left for dead, </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Pierce was behind destroying his life, yet unable to prove it, would have been heart wrenching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“James?” Nat said and placed a hand carefully on his shoulder. When he looked up his eyes found Steve’s immediately and Steve returned the look, trying to convey how sorry he was through his gaze alone. Sam bent down to pick up the papers strewn over the floor and Steve watched as Bucky took a few deep breaths in time with Steve’s exaggerated ones and his eyes then flicked to Natasha’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, I was just certain we’d find something, I thought we </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> found something at Pierce’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh guys?” Sam said as he crouched down over the mess. His fingers scrambling over one page, lining it up against another. “I think Cap found something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Steve asked, as Bucky turned to Sam, his brows drawn together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, Cap found? Found what? Where?” Nat asked and suddenly the three of them, and Cap in Bucky’s arms, all looked down at Sam and the paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit…” Sam breathed, “This is diabolical.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky fell to his knees, and started to read, Steve seeing the fine tremble in his shoulders, “Holy shit indeed, I think we’ve got him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sparkling blue-gray eyes looked back up at Steve and his heart stopped at the pure emotion pouring out from Bucky. Steve had no idea if it was what he’d found or if there were true feelings for Steve welling up, and ignoring his own thumping heart, he crouched next to Bucky and looked at the paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed Cap had inadvertently flicked the pages until two of them had lined up, creating a new schematic, a few clever well-worn folds later the writing lining up to spell out a name, Walkerville.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that…” Steve trailed off as Bucky exhaled slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s where I’m from, </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> from.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.” Nat clapped a hand over her mouth and turned into Sam, who grasped her tightly, but within a second she was steely eyed and looking back down at the pages. Steve glanced over to read another three towns listed and knew one meant something to her. He caught Sam’s eye who nodded once and said nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, who leaned into it gratefully, Steve positioned himself so Bucky could press his entire side against him if he needed the support as he read. He did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They eventually moved the papers carefully and sat around the table, seeing first hand the schematics of the machine that could destroy cities and after a moment Sam cursed loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, you see that, that’s were Brock went - Liberty Marshes, that’s only about twenty miles out of Turnpikes limits from the northside. If they use this machine there - it could wipe out over a quarter of our population. Mother fuck… that’s right where Riley lives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, now we have this proof, who do we go to - the governing body? See if we can get Pierce arrested. The Guardian will have to listen? Right?” Steve asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat pointed to a group of names that now lined up at the base of the blueprints and shook her head, looking ready to knock skulls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the Guardian’s name right there, plus about another four people within the council. Pierce has them all in his pocket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one said anything for the longest time after that. They just sipped at their gin, looking grimly at the list of names, the people caught up in it, all high level, the towns affected or future affected and the machine built to harness an un-harnessable energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the radio crackled to life, startling them all as one of Sam’s contacts burst into life, asking when they were heading out on another scavenging mission. Sam went over and flicked the radio off, but it was as he came back over and drained his glass that Nat jumped up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, I’ve got it. I know what we have to do, I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> we need to contact.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She then scooped up the papers carefully and flew out the room, coming back a second later, with a jacket on, a knit cap snug over her curls and a backpack presumably full of evidence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? Are you coming or not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking at the others, Steve shrugged. It was the middle of the night and he had no idea what was going on, but he looked at Bucky, whose eyes were finally sparking in interest, and he was in. No matter how harebrained her idea was - he’d do it for Bucky.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They ended up riding their push bikes for what felt like two hours, and although Steve was relatively fit, he was flagging by the end. He’d not slept much the night before, his and Bucky’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>activities</span>
  </em>
  <span> keeping them awake later than anticipated, then with the stressful day into the excitement of the night by breaking into Pierce’s, finding the schematics then now to wherever the hell Natasha was dragging them all, Steve was quite simply running on fumes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually they ended up in an area of Turnpike Steve didn’t visit very often, for no other reason than it was out the opposite side to the clinics he supplied and his few friends lived nowhere near it. It was definitely a poorer section of the city though, and as they peddled down the narrow streets, Steve could see that although it was worn and sparse, it was well loved and there was a pride of community you didn’t always see elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pulled up in front of a nondescript house, neat, tidy, and nothing about it gave Steve any clues on who might be inside; so when Nat knocked on the door and an older, authoritative, brown skinned man, wearing a lot of black with a matching eye patch and a look that could kill answered, Steve wondered what the hell Nat was getting them into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man raised one brow, staring intently at them all, then harrumphed, “this better be important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was these few simple words that made Steve’s slow and tired brain kick into gear. He knew that voice, knew it well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fury,” he said and at Natasha’s sharp look, Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we come in Nick?” Natasha asked with steel in her voice that even Steve was impressed with. Fury seemed to stiffen, looking down the street, before stepping back and letting them in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d offer you a drink but I don’t like people.” Fury said as they all tumbled into his small kitchenette.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve heard Bucky chuckle and ducked his head, glad to finally hear something positive from him. It had been a tense and emotional afternoon and Steve, never having been a sap and unused to this new awareness of Bucky, these </span>
  <em>
    <span>feelings</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wanted nothing more than a few minutes alone with Bucky to pull him close, tuck him into his arms and tell him that everything would be okay. A lie, but a nice one. One Steve also needed to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This better be good Nat, I didn’t allow you to know where I lived so you could bring a damn barber shop quartet to my door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A what?” Bucky asked and Steve shrugged, noting the way Fury rolled his eyes and mumbled something about ‘motherfucking new age kids’, Steve still wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not, but stayed quiet, finally understanding why they were there and not wanting to somehow ruin their chances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have something for you, for your show. Something big.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fury looked between Natasha and Steve, then over at Sam and Bucky before sighing heavily. “Why do I have a feeling I shouldn’t have opened my door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d be exposing a member of the Accords.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fuck you say? The Accords? They’re a myth, a legend, you can’t prove that - can you?” The last part was asked in a higher pitch and Steve could tell his interest was piqued. Fury was always breaking stories on his show, trying to right wrongs, help the poorer less fortunate folk and it was getting him a name of being one of the most accurate sources of information in the region. But Fury had to remain a ghost, the Guardian had even decreed him a potential enemy of the Territories, stating that no one should be above the law. And even though Fury did a lot of good on his pirate radio show, he also rustled up a lot of trouble, his words reaching the far corners of the Territories, and yeah, on occasion it brought trouble to Turnpike, but Steve admired him for telling the truth no matter the consequences. It was something he could relate to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just hoped Fury would listen to their crazy story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour, and a million questions later, Nat had the papers across Fury’s table going over the finer details, Fury nodding his head and pointing out some names they’d overlooked. At some point they must have moved up a notch in his eyes as they all held a hot mug of herbal tea each.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This runs deep, Natasha, the entire Guardians office is implicated here except for a few lower level council members.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, that’s why we need this out - as soon as you can. Like first up in the morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Fury mulled over their ridiculous story and demands for him to become a part of it, Steve felt Bucky lean against him, dead on his feet. Steve had noticed Bucky had been favouring his right arm all night and had almost forgotten his metal arm hadn’t even been reattached for twenty four hours. But he’d not complained once, and Steve’s heart went out to him, vowing to offer him a massage after a hot shower, and thinking about what else might follow on from that. It wasn't something he should be concerned about in that moment, but it was hard not to imagine falling into each other later. It kept Steve going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Steve did what he could and started to rub his thumb into the muscles on the side of Bucky’s spine, he melted immediately and Steve once more felt a bubble of pride well up that he could do that, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> could make Bucky boneless. Could help relax the usually tense man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do it over one big assed broadcast, dump everything you’ve got here into the world, then repeat it later that night, it’ll give my listeners time to tune in and hear it. I don’t know what else we can do, but Turnpike’s citizens will have a choice, know who’s trying to take over their town. Pierce is a fool if he thinks he can take </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s all we can ask from you, Nick, I just hope it’s enough to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, we don’t really have anywhere to turn right now and this needs to get out there.” Nat finally slumped in her chair looking at them all, “You all sure about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Bucky said with no hesitation, and Sam and Steve both nodded as well, Nat giving a small, tired smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, you’d best get off my property, I don’t need my neighbours thinking I’m the friendly type.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the curtest of farewells that would have been rude from anyone else, but from Fury somehow sounded fond, they all jumped on their bikes and with a groan at how far they had to ride, they were off. Steve really missed his Harley.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they finally made it back to Sam and Natasha’s house, they said sleepy goodnights and went their separate ways. And although Steve had vowed to give Bucky a massage and to take his mind off his aching arm, he was surprised when Bucky curled up against him instead, pressing his lips to the taut skin across Steve’s shoulders and simply whispered ‘nite’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve dissolved at the gesture, the way it felt so unconsciously offered. So natural. The way Bucky fell asleep immediately, trusting Steve, and he’d never felt more worthy than he did in that moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help wonder though, what the next day would bring, when Fury’s program went to air. Still, knowing whatever happened - Steve wouldn't let Bucky go through it alone. He knew that with certainty.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We are getting so close to the end - I can taste it!</p><p>Thanks again (as always) for sticking with me through this one, I can't explain how amazing you've all been - I have the best readers in the world ❤</p><p>So enjoy some more plot, a little spice followed by a tad more plot (I sense a pattern here!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next morning Steve tried to keep his usual routine just in case he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> tailed, knowing that Pierce wasn’t the type to just give up, not if he thought Steve was hiding something, meaning Pierce would do everything in his power to find out what it was. So even though he was working on about three hours sleep, Steve dragged himself from bed at six and was ready to go ten minutes later, wanting to be done and home by Fury's expose just before lunch. He also didn’t want to leave Bucky alone too long, worried that either he would try and do something on his own, or that maybe Pierce might finally send someone out to check if they were at Nat and Sam’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be honest he’d been expecting a rap at the door every single day - but so far nothing. Though he knew Pierce was sly and most likely wouldn’t just turn up, he’d catch them off guard where there were no witnesses. He couldn’t silence four people without questions being raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky grumbled and made it known that he wasn’t happy being left home to dogsit Cap, who looked reproachfully up at Bucky as if understanding what was said. Bucky immediately cooed that he didn’t mean it, picking Cap up and showering him with attention much to Steve’s delight, and he filed the happy little domestic scene away for later - knowing he’d soon have to say something. But the denial bubble he was living in was a hard one to burst, and although neither of them spoke of the future, Steve didn’t want a truth bomb to disturb the current calm they were experiencing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaving with a searing kiss burnt onto his lips, Steve visited his usual clinics, dropping off what medications he’d brought in from the farm, taking the time to chat to the medics, getting orders for top-ups and trying to see if he could fill requests for specific ailments, knowing he’d be burying his nose in his Ma’s books when he returned home to see what other poultices he could manufacture. The entire time he kept an eye out, not seeing anything remiss or anyone following him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve went out of his way to walk past Pierce's office, just to see if the trader was in, but the lights were off and there was no movement from inside which was strange at that time of the morning; he saw Pepper hovering around the door with a frown on her face, but he kept walking with a nod of hello in her direction, ensuring he didn't look too interested. Except he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> interested. Had Brock and co returned from Liberty Marshes yet? Was the machine built or even up and running? Were they on a deadline they just couldn't meet - too late to stop the plan? And how the fuck were they supposed to stop it all from nothing but a broadcasted radio show?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their entire plan hinged on public outcry, the people stepping up and forcing the Guardians hand. Would it be enough? Steve didn’t know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thoughts whirling in his mind, Steve got to his last stop, Helen’s, the most helpful visit of his morning, as Helen gave him hints and practical tips to help with Bucky's prosthetic, things he could do to relieve the pain and discomfort. She wanted to see Bucky again and Steve promised he would bring him in soon (Helen not knowing the real reason Bucky was in town, not realising it wasn’t safe). But once he left the medics, he stopped short and took a long moment to wonder what his carefully planned life would look like if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> give it all up to follow Bucky, and came to a horrifying realisation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too many people relied on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with a clarity that slammed into him like a cluster storm in the middle of the Dead City, Steve could see that by being helpful, by being the best he could be and wanting to help the community as his Ma had done before him, he’d stitched himself into a corner. He couldn’t leave, he couldn’t up and follow Bucky across the country when he left, Steve was too ingrained in this life, was too important in Turnpike to be selfish and follow his heart. It was a sobering realisation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of his deliveries were made in quiet contemplation, even seeing Wanda didn’t improve his mood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't until Peter appeared from the back room, eyes lighting up at seeing the book, </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Thief</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve had transcribed, that the despair heavy in his chest lessened for a moment or two. Peter went on and on about the books he'd read so far and that he wanted to write his own fantasy novel about a multiverse, asking if Steve could help him find parchment and good pens for his endeavour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was those few precious moments that cemented his worth, if Steve didn’t do these things, then who would?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he made it back to Sam and Nat’s, still with no sign of Pierce or his band of merry men on his travels, he’d steeled his resolve, ready to accept what was offered from Bucky while he had him, and the rest would either fall into place or not. Bucky knew where the farm was, and as a trader, surely he’d come through every so often. If so, Steve would wait, would welcome him with open arms each and every time he passed through. It wasn’t enough, but something was better than nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve walked in to find a house empty of all occupants and immediately panicked, checking every room with a frantic pace, his head whirling in horror scenarios. Had Pierce come, taken Bucky and hurt Cap? He knew Nat and Sam were out, coming home just before Fury’s show, but Bucky, he’d promised to stay put.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking for any sign of a struggle, seeing none, he flew out the back door, ready to grab his Harley and use the last of his fuel canisters to find Bucky. He flung open the back door and stomped down the stairs but stopped short at the scene in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was sitting in the middle of the lawn, throwing a ball to Cap, ecstatically chasing after it, back and forth across the grass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buck?” Steve asked unsteadily as he took in a shaky breath, the adrenaline having nowhere to go, “You alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peachy,” was the sarcastic response and he saw Bucky shake his head, “Sorry, I’m just… did you see any sign of Pierce or Brock today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve leant up against the back railing and spread his hands out in a shrug, needing the support to stop his body from shaking, “Not a sign, his office is closed up tight, and if he isn’t in, usually someone else on his payroll would open up. Maybe he’s out at Liberty Marshes, or maybe he’s still sleeping off the drugs, though if he listened to my instructions it should have only knocked him out for a few hours. I don’t know, I don’t like it though - there’s always a presence of him or the boys in town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing up, as Cap started to chew the ball, laying on his belly, staring up at them, not giving up his prize, Bucky stalked towards Steve and he took in a sharp breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think they’re fucking with us? Know that we broke in, took the plans?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, I have no idea, but if he did. We’d best watch ourselves, especially once Fury’s show airs in a few hours.” Steve watched as Bucky stood before him, jerking in movement, “Buck, you’re as jumpy as hell, are you ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stopping from bouncing on his heels, Bucky paused and ran a hand through his hair, “Not really, I just hate being cooped up. Feeling janky, I’ve got </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> too much energy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling more fear drain from his body at the knowledge Bucky was fine, he was there right before Steve, not kidnapped, beaten and left for dead again, he nodded, “Sure, I get it. Maybe after dark we could go for a run or something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky eyed him a second, then pressed forward and Steve would have taken a step back from the intensity, but he was trapped against the railing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nights too far away, I need something now,” and Bucky grabbed Steve by the back of his neck, pulling Steve forward, crashing their lips together. And even though his thoughts were jumbled, Steve couldn’t help but light up inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky yanked him into the house, leaving Cap to his ball, and by the time the were back in the kitchen, Bucky’s controlling manner started to wane, he was pushing in, crowding Steve as best he could, trying to keep up the momentum, but he was too strung out, on edge, vibrating against Steve. And as soon as Steve spun him, pressing Bucky against the sink, grinding into him, he melted, giving up and letting Steve take him in hand. And Steve loved it, feeling Bucky comply, loosening under his tongue and hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better?” Steve husked against Bucky’s neck as he bit into the skin. Forgetting all of his worries and fears in that instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More, I need more, I need </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>deep inside of me, filling me up. Making me forget, making me feel nothing but you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck…” Steve ground out, lifting Bucky, who let out a small surprised noise, carrying him to their bedroom, and shutting the door with his foot, not needing a curious Cap to follow. He wanted Bucky’s attention - all of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put Bucky down next to the bed, and grasped the back of his head tightly, taking the kiss he’d been wanting for the last day. It was possessive, deep, and he stole Bucky’s breaths until he gasped, instinctually moving back, but also inhaling Steve in. He filled Bucky’s mouth, his senses, holding him in place, before moving back, biting his bottom lip hard. The whine from Bucky’s chest was desperate, needy, and Steve smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky didn’t wait, his clothes off in less than ten seconds, while Steve stepped back to lean against the wall, completely clothed, arms across his chest - watching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Bucky a few extra seconds to realise Steve wasn’t getting naked too, and went to take a step forward. Steve held up a hand and Bucky stopped immediately, Steve watching the way he bounced from one foot to the other. And never having seen Bucky so keyed up, Steve knew he had the power to give Bucky relief, to make him so exhausted that he couldn’t think or move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you get the lube out of my bag, sweetheart?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t know if it was the question or the endearment that made Bucky’s body sway, his eyes shutting for a second before he gulped and nodded. Whatever it was, Steve liked it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He devoured every inch of Bucky on display as he leant over Steve’s bag, rummaging around until he found the lube. Bucky’s skin went taut across his back where the scars met his shoulder and Steve remembered his vow to massage later, but first, he wanted Bucky a quivering mess under his hands, then when he was completely boneless he’d lavish Bucky's body with attention, loosening up the remainder of his tight muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was when Bucky started across the room to him again that Steve shook his head and pointed at the bed, feeling his cock harden in his pants at the way Bucky complied with no complaint, even though he could sense the questions burning inside of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, get up on your knees for me,” Steve watched as Bucky flushed prettily, but climbed up, facing away from Steve, “Good, that’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The duck of Bucky’s head and the furthering of the flush up over his shoulders made Steve grin. Bucky was very much into praise, and Steve wanted to layer it on him, until there was nothing left but a red faced, slack jawed mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now open the lube and get your fingers </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> slick for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve?” Bucky pleaded, eyes steel gray and blown with lust as he looked over his shoulder back at Steve, “Please…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it, baby, I’m taking care of you, aren’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could see Bucky warring within himself on how to answer, but the snick of the lid followed by Bucky coating his fingers thoroughly with the thick liquid was answer enough. Steve watched, wrapt, until he realised Bucky had ceased movement, waiting. Waiting on an order from Steve. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to see you open yourself, I want you to play, I want you to slip your fingers into your hole.” Steve sucked in a breath as Bucky reached behind himself, his fingers skirting lightly over the taut muscle, his face now buried in the blankets, his metal fingers holding himself open, and Steve almost dropped to his knees in pure unabridged want. “Yeah… just like that, gorgeous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small moan, muffled and quiet was wrecked as Bucky fingers danced and teased before pushing one deeply inside, the angle not great, but he made it work. Watching as Bucky's cheeks clenched at the initial intrusion, relaxing as he worked it in, was a revelation in Steve's own desires, he couldn't get enough of Bucky, wasn't sure he ever would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had not anticipated his </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> in this game, not understanding the pure force behind his body wanting to be compelled forward to bury himself immediately in Bucky’s heat, knowing full well how it felt to be engulfed, slick and snug in his tightness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re doing so well, add a second finger when you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky slid in a second digit straight away, appearing to be waiting for Steve’s words, and as Steve’s eyes devoured the unabashed sight of Bucky pumping wet fingers into his loosening body, Steve ripped his t-shirt off, letting his pants and underwear fall to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nu-uh, don’t stop, don’t you worry about what I’m doing back here.” Steve scolded when Bucky faltered and went to look back over at Steve. And the utter control he had in the situation washed over him, the fact that Bucky listened so well, didn’t halt his movements, continued to tease himself just as Steve asked was something that made his heart sing. Bucky was perfect for him, in every way - and Steve was so in love it hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you do three for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky groaned ‘yes’ his voice pitched in the low whine Steve also knew so well, and while Bucky gasped as he pushed three fingers into himself, Steve grabbed his own cock, pumping lazily, eyes soaking up the gorgeous view before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at how your ass gobbles up your fingers, you’re so good, so perfect. I can’t wait to get in there, pound you until you can’t remember your name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve growled when Bucky’s fingers squelched as they came out, reaching the end of his tether, too keyed up and wanting, and Steve finally took pity on him. Needing to slide in, to claim him, own him, make Bucky think of nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stalked over and placed a hand on Bucky’s lower back, and Bucky arched into it with no hesitation, a long soft breath escaping him and Steve could feel the smallest tremor running throughout his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Using his thumb, Steve pressed into Bucky, the soft ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ making his heart pulse, as he used the lube stuffed inside of Bucky to push further in, to run the pad of his thumb around the rim, testing how ready Bucky was. Finding he needed just a little bit more attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the lube, while stroking up and down Bucky’s thigh, up over his cheeks and onto his back, was calming for both of them, so Steve continued to do it, only stopping to slather lube over his hand. Then without warning he slid two fingers straight in and Bucky bowed up off the bed, neck arching. Steve had never seen anything so beautiful. He stopped smoothing his hand over Bucky’s back to reach forward and trail his fingers across the delicate skin of his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t expect the noise like a wounded animal to escape Bucky, nor the way his voice broke as he asked, “again… don’t … don’t stop...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t strong enough to say no, so he gently pressed against Bucky’s throat as he pumped his fingers in and out of his body, and Bucky reacted so viscerally, almost violently, and Steve filed away every small sound and vibration his touch incurred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck. Look how damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>responsive </span>
  </em>
  <span>you are, you like that, sweet thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nodded harshly as Steve’s fingers trailed back across his adams’ apple, no pressure, just there and Bucky cried out in pleasure and suddenly Steve’s patience had all but run out. Sliding in another finger, pressing a fourth right up against him, Steve became relentless in his pace, making sure Bucky could take him, both liking a little pain, but not that kind of pain. Steve never wanted to take Bucky unprepared. There was no joy in that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready, god… I’m so… fuck… Steve …  please….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?” Steve asked as wet sounds filled the room, filthy, nasty and everything Steve loved about sex. Sex with Bucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nodding of Bucky’s head, half from the force of Steve’s hand thrusts and half his enthusiastic consent that he was more than ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gripping himself tightly, he poured more lube than necessary out, it flowed off his dick, the excess slopping to the floor and he’d worry about cleaning up afterwards, the need to bury himself in Bucky too great, taking all of his thoughts. Steve was no longer coherent, he was all nerve endings and the need to come, to make Bucky feel, to take the edge off them both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was tight, he was perfect and he wailed into the bed as Steve slid almost all the way in, only having to pulse in and out right at the end to fit snug, completely sheathed, home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood like that, Bucky tight around him, the most intimate position you could be with another person, and breathed, letting the rush of emotions roll over him like a tide. Steve’s hand rubbed soothing circles over Bucky’s spine, enjoying the light sheen of sweat that was starting to rise to the surface of the skin. Staring down at where they joined, Steve sucked in a breath and pushed forward, seeing the last of himself disappear into Bucky’s greedy hole. Breathtaking. Everything about it was breathtaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve… please…” Bucky whined, and Steve found that he’d been miles away, watching, dreaming, enjoying the moment. The time for soft contemplation was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching forward, he grabbed the strands of Bucky’s mid-length hair and tugged, a howl leaving Bucky’s throat, and Steve set a punishing pace. Fucking into Bucky with everything he had, the cries and gasps cut off as Steve slammed deeper and deeper into him, knowing that they were mere moments away from forgetting their own names, who they were, where they came from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That moment was </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve could have fucked into Bucky for hours, </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the rare occasion, but the way Bucky’s voice started a high keen, the punched out moans and helplessly balled fists bunched into the blankets, meant if Steve did, then Bucky would be coming on his dick a few more times that morning, because Steve was only just getting started. He tugged at Bucky’s hair once more and reached around with his other hand, finding Bucky’s throbbing dick, squeezing and jerking in time to his thrusts. Christ, it was magical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“St… St… Steve…” the broken cry making his heart thud harder, “You… fu… I’m ….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let go sweetheart, I’ve got you. Always got you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with those words Bucky came around him, Steve’s resolve waning, but he continued to screw him through it, thrusting, grinding and doing everything in his power to make Bucky forget his worries. Forget his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve lost himself in the clench of Bucky, the smell of their sex and just before he came, he grabbed the base of his dick and pulled out, stopping his impending orgasm. Bucky flopped to the bed and curled over looking up at Steve with a puzzled expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve?” His name breathless on Bucky’s red bitten lips was another form of perfection that was gifted to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m not finished with you, not for a long time,” Steve vowed, and bent over Bucky, pushing his hip until he was flat on his back and licked up the residual saltiness that clung to Bucky’s stomach, the muscles spasming under his tongue. Steve smirked and looked up at Bucky who was watching him rapt, something heavy in his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve… you’re too much… you’re...” the words trailed off as Steve tongued Bucky’s dick, sucking in the softness, cleaning him good until he felt the smallest twitch of interest. It wouldn’t take </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> long for Bucky to get hard again. “... everything…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Faltering for the smallest second, Steve tried to make sense of Bucky’s rambling, but then Bucky’s dick made itself known, slowly filling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing, Steve lined himself up, throwing Bucky’s legs up over his shoulders and slammed in again, brutal and rough. Stopping abruptly after a solid minute of thrusting, Bucky gasped for breath, now fully hard, and managed to look up at Steve through slitted, half out of his mind eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweetheart, I hope you don’t intend to sit for the next two days, because you’re not going to be able to once I’ve finished with you this morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky just let out a sound halfway between a growl and a contently sated moan and Steve knew he could get lost in Bucky - had already managed it.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple of hours later, Sam and Natasha had returned in preparation for the show, and Bucky was leaning against the kitchen counter, wincing surreptitiously whenever he moved. Steve hid a pleased smile behind his cup of tea and listened as Sam spoke about his next scavenging trip, he and Riley were heading out the following week down south and Steve saw the way Bucky’s interest perked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s stomach dropped and his smile fell abruptly, was Bucky about to ask to go with? Head towards his old home once the Pierce saga had been sorted out? For the first time he selfishly hoped it would take longer to get a resolution, if only to keep Bucky nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t stop Bucky if that was his plan though, no matter how much he wanted to interject, if Bucky was wanting to leave, continue on with his life, then who was Steve to deny him that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But god did he want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait up, I think it’s starting.” Sam interrupted Steve’s downward spiralling thoughts, and he shook himself from it, catching Bucky’s gaze who looked at him questioningly, clearly sensing the change in Steve’s mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honing his attention in on the radio, he felt Bucky come to sit gingerly beside him at the table as Fury’s show commenced. The next two hours were spent listening. It was damning, it was compelling and Fury painted such a picture that even though the four of them knew exactly what Pierce had done, it still left them reeling. Fury definitely had a way with words, even if </span>
  <em>
    <span>motherfucker</span>
  </em>
  <span> was used a good thirty times throughout the expose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was intense, but now what?” Sam asked at the end of the broadcast with a big sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t do much except keep an eye on the situation, see what the public think, see if the Guardians are forced to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything. Hopefully the people will go into a frenzy and surely they’ll have no choice </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do something, investigate the claims at least. If not, I guess we regroup and think about how to tackle it next.” Steve shrugged, his stomach heavy at the lack of </span>
  <em>
    <span>next</span>
  </em>
  <span> or finality of their plan, it was just so unknown. “This isn’t an ideal situation, we can’t trust the Guardians with it, it’s up to the people to take a stance and cross our fingers it’s enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least we have evidence,” Bucky said in a flat voice, clearly not optimistic for a satisfactory outcome. And Steve couldn’t blame him, the plan was flimsy at best. It wasn't even a real plan. But what else could they do?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think they’ll trace it back to us?” Sam asked, and looked over at Nat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pierce isn’t an idiot, wouldn’t have gotten this far if he was. He’d definitely know that Bucky is involved in some capacity, which implicates Steve, perhaps he knows about us. But I don’t care. We did the right thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we know that with the scrutiny on them, even if they wanted to find us, it would be almost impossible right now. Too many eyes watching.” Steve said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Fury?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll do his second broadcast tonight from a different location, he knew what he was unleashing when he agreed to do this. We can only hope that the word has reached other Territories, maybe with word of the Guardians here being corrupted, sorry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>allegedly</span>
  </em>
  <span> corrupted, they might send someone to investigate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hummed at Natasha’s words, hoping they’d not endangered anyone else unnecessarily, though he had an idea Fury could take care of himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the rest of the day they all kept busy, Sam and Nat completing a few chores they’d been meaning to do around the house, Steve teasing Sam about the state of his shed, earning a flipped bird back in return. And Steve spent time on Bucky’s shoulder and arm, passing on to him what Helen had suggested, and enjoyed watching Bucky come looser under his hands, this time with no sex involved, and somehow it felt more intimate than any dalliance they’d had before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve went to tell Bucky that he wanted him to stay about thirty times over the course of the day, but the timing was always off, and not because Sam and Nat were near, nor was it Steve’s fear of changing up what they were to each other in the moment. But because Bucky was tense, his mind wandering, the waiting around was clearly killing him, and Steve didn’t want to add to that stress. So he remained quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the afternoon they sparred, and it was exhilarating, Steve more of a scrappy fighter so Bucky showed him some punches, how to hold his core when striking so as not to fall and how to kick without jarring a knee. It was the best way to forget their troubles for a few hours. Steve surprised at how competent of a fighter Bucky was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then they crowded around the radio to hear Fury’s second expose, almost everything was the same, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>motherfuckers</span>
  </em>
  <span> still plentiful, though he did mention that Pierce, Brock, Samuel and Joe had not been sighted in public for over 36 hours. Rollins was under hospice care and was not looking to recover. They glanced at each other at the news.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where were they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, Bucky rubbed his thighs hard and stood with an aborted yawn, “I’m beat guys, thanks for, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> - but I’m going to crash.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve watched Bucky closely as he left the room, all three of them offering up ‘goodnights’ in varying forms, and Cap trotted after Bucky, hearing him a few moments later talking to Cap in a low voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do realise you’re a family, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, James and Cap…” Nat drawled, then shook her head in disbelief a few seconds later, “How can you not realise? I mean, at least I don’t have to keep trying to set you up with friends anymore, but you could do me the courtesy of telling me you’d fallen in love." Natasha pinned him with a look, "That you found your forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t answer, wasn’t sure if he could even articulate the thoughts crashing through his mind. He liked the picture Nat painted though, very much so. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Family.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was a heady concept - even if it was a fallacy. The heavy weight of decisions and unspoken words sat in his gut and he smiled wryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And of course, I’ll tell you as soon as I do,” he lied, tired beyond comprehension, he’d had a big few days and the morning sex and afternoon sparring had wiped him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat narrowed her eyes and Steve saw Sam give him a steady gaze from behind her, the one that said Steve was playing with fire, a Nat shaped flame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you fuck this up Rogers, I swear I’ll - “ Nat stopped mid sentence when Sam placed his hand gently on her arm and she looked up at him, something passed between them without words and she pulled a wry face, “Fine, just don’t let him slip through your fingers. You’ll never regret anything more in your life if you miss the chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hummed and stood up, knowing Nat was talking about how she’d almost lost Sam, they became solid friends the moment they’d met, but every time Sam went to deepen their electric bond over the years, she’d back away. Tell him it wasn’t meant to be. It wasn’t until Sam had accepted a post in another city as their scavenger that Nat finally realised what she was about to lose. The rest was history. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Bucky and Steve were different, weren’t they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as he said his goodnight’s, making his way to the bedroom, Steve knew he’d be forgoing sleep once again, his thoughts already taking over, and sighed. Sleep was overrated anyway.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too early, a loud knocking at the bedroom door startled Steve awake, Bucky blearily opened his eyes, finding Steve straight away then relaxed as his hand found the solid bicep of Steve’s arm. Cap’s head popped up behind Bucky and Steve chuckled. There was nothing in life like waking up next to Bucky and Cap, nothing at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Steve called out, his voice husky from lack of sleep, two hours solid was all he’d managed, spending the night listening to Bucky’s steady breaths before he’d started to whimper from a nightmare. At that point Steve pulled him in close, soothing until Bucky calmed down. Not waking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out here, you’ll want to hear this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve and Bucky both flew out of bed at the urgency in Sam’s voice, and throwing on a pair of loose sweats he followed Bucky’s form out to the kitchen where Sam and Nat stood before their crackling radio.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Repeat that again, Riley. Over.” Sam asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, that broadcast yesterday and last night, it’s gone mental, you have to get down here to Pierce’s office, there are thousands of people milling in the streets, plus two women from New Washington are calling out for the people behind the broadcast to come forth with evidence. I think they’re going to take Pierce back to their Territory to bring him up on charges of mass murder. Over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Steve breathed out and felt his fingers being crushed. Looking down he saw Bucky’s metal fingers snaked around his hand, they loosened as soon as Bucky realised what he was doing, but it warmed Steve completely that Bucky reached for him, even if his hand was now dead. “Does that mean they’ve found Pierce and the others? He’s surfaced? Fuck, we have to get down there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within ten minutes, they were all dressed and heading towards the main centre of town where Pierce’s office was, Nat’s backpack carrying the evidence needed to seal the crooked traders’ fate. Steve hoped so at any rate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are these women Riley spoke of? Can we trust them with what we recovered?” Bucky asked, which was an important question. Extremely important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Nat said, tight-lipped, “We’ll do some reconnaissance, find out who they are and make a decision based on that. But I can’t help but think it sounds promising.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was reserving judgement until they saw what the situation was, but Bucky, wearing a large coat and beanie with his hair tucked up to try and hide in disguise, didn’t leave Steve’s side. A fact he was exponentially pleased with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The street that Pierce’s office stood on was indeed packed, bodies crammed in on each other, there really were thousands of people pressing against each other and Steve took a second to stand at the back of the immense crowd and feel proud that Turnpike, his city, had turned out to support each other, to finally see what Pierce had been doing, what he could have brought down on their way of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking around, he spied Peter and Wanda on one street corner, Peter standing up on a box to see better, then saw Bruce in from the farm only a few yards away and Pepper and Tony stood in front of the office, Tony yelling out something, Pepper shushing him, and Steve grinned. His town was fighting. And so were they. Then two imposing women came out of the office and a hush fell over the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both women were tall, one blonde, and one brunette and both appeared strong, resilient and not taking crap from anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve made his way over to Wanda, the others trailing after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Wanda,” Steve greeted with a side hug and a kiss to her cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve, isn’t this incredible?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s happening, we only just got here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Hill and Danvers heard the broadcast yesterday from New Washington, came down here to arrest Pierce, he’s been wanted on smaller misdemeanors for years, and now they’ve put the call out for whoever can corroborate the story to come forward so they can take Pierce back and put him on trial. They want it air tight. So now we’re all just waiting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mean Carol Danvers and Maria Hill?” Steve asked and the awe in his voice was not feigned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Amazing isn’t it - that they are here I mean. I have such a crush on Maria, the dark haired one,” Wanda smiled sweetly, her gaze riveted on the woman a hundred yards away. “I mean how can you not. These two inspire hope that we can get back to a lawful society, that we can end corruption. I still can’t believe they’re here in Turnpike, not that I’m surprised, if what Fury exposed yesterday has even a grain of truth to it, Pierce should be locked away forever. The Guardians here were never going to do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they find Pierce then?” Steve asked, still completely shocked he’d not come after him and Bucky in the last day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apparently he was at his house, drugged out of it, didn’t even flinch when the girls grabbed him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve baulked, oh fuck. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’d</span>
  </em>
  <span> done that. He’d given Pierce medication too strong for the dosages he’d recommended, though it shouldn’t have knocked him out for 48 hours, not unless Pierce took more than what Steve told him. Clearly he did. Steve honestly did not feel bad about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to chat to Bucky about the turn of events, only to find he was staring at a complete stranger. Spinning, he looked the other way and only saw Sam who was also searching around himself in confusion, looking for Nat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Steve breathed and Sam shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you surprised?” He responded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Steve couldn’t say that he was. Nat and Bucky together was either the single most magnificent pairing in the known universe, or the most ulcer inducing. Steve was on the fence about which way it went. So they decided not to move, to stay put and wait for Bucky and Nat’s return, but the whole time Steve’s eyes were peeled, he never saw a bright red head or a steel gazed brunette. Though at one point, Carol came from inside and gestured to Maria, holding a very familiar backpack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jesus Christ, subtlety was dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An arm suddenly slid around his back, pulling him in and Steve jumped, hearing a familiar chuckle near his ear, and he grasped onto Bucky’s hand on his hip, not wanting to let go again. They watched as a disorientated Pierce was led out of his office to a large truck that was waiting, his hands tied behind him with rope, blue eyes groggily searching the crowd, looking for help until they unintentionally found Steve. Steve went to duck his head, but thought better of it, staring directly into Pierce’s eyes with a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he was gone, pushed into the truck, Samuel was next to come through the door, followed by a scowling Joe. All of them disappearing into the vehicle, heading towards New Washington, to their fate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria called out her thanks and held up the backpack, stating that Turnpike had been instrumental in helping take down ’The Accords’, and maybe it was the lack of hesitation in her voice at publicly stating that ‘The Accords’ were real that made a whisper ripple through the crowd, like a ghost come to life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as the truck was secured and the women climbed aboard, Bucky grabbed his arm and tugged. Steve with a triumphant grin turned to him and his smile faltered at the expression on Bucky’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the hell was Brock?” Bucky asked with a look of sheer anger and determination in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with a sinking heart and his gut roiling, Steve knew exactly what had happened. Brock had fled the moment Fury’s expose had aired, had left the territory, was on the run, and that meant one thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was leaving.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay I know - cliff hanger (sorry - but a necessary evil) - but boy, the next chapter is definitely a ride! See you soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Last two chapters people!</p>
<p>I know a few of you were a little bummed at the cliff hanger - so enjoy - I won't waste your time by making you read my dodgy little authors note! (but once again thank you all for reading.)</p>
<p>Brace yourselves and enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bucky immediately fled the crowded street with purpose in his stride, pushing past people and not checking to see if Steve followed. But he did - Steve’s heart thumped in his temple so hard the impending headache had already started, and he found all his words sticking in his throat. When he finally caught up to Bucky, there was an intensity surrounding him, a purpose, something Steve couldn’t ask about, nor try to understand. He’d not lived Bucky’s life, had not suffered his losses. Sure, Steve had more than his fair share over the years, but he’d not had his identity all but erased, his family, everything that made him... </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All he could offer was support, a body for Bucky to use in his fight, but if Bucky fled to territories unknown trying to find Brock, where did that leave Steve? Behind. Alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Bucky was in his own world, his features drawn tight, and Steve kept pace, hating the cold rush of reality that this could be the moment he lost him. Steve hadn’t taken his chance, had left it too late, he could hardly declare his undying love right then, it wouldn’t be fair to thrust it upon an unsuspecting Bucky, not when he was trying desperately to come to terms with something much larger than the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Buck?” he tried, voice cracking on the singular word. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Steve, I’ve…” Bucky trailed off and Steve could see him thinking, ticking things off in his head, trying to work out all angles. “I’m sorry, but can I perhaps borrow the bike?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course you can, you don’t have to…” Steve let out a rush of air, “That’s not even a question, it’s yours. I fixed it for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky flicked his eyes towards Steve, the expression halfway between pained and something Steve couldn’t quite put his finger on -  it was gone as soon as it had appeared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to try and find him, I don’t have time to come up with a plan. It could be too late, we have no idea what way he even went.” Bucky’s voice started to pitch up, losing the familiar deep cadance and Steve grasped his forearm, the motion shocking Bucky from his rambling words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Turnpike is a big city, I’m sure he didn’t go far without supplies, you know there isn’t anything out there for miles. Not with impending storms, he’d be an idiot if he didn’t stock up first, we might have time.” Steve weighed his next words carefully, “We can do this. Sam, Nat, you and me. You’re not alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky stumbled and Steve’s grip tightened, holding him upright, but they didn’t lessen their pace, if anything they walked quicker, Bucky flicking indechiperable looks at Steve the whole way. Time was critical, but Steve’s speech seemed to have its intended effect to calm Bucky. Steve’s words were true, but unsaid was the understanding that once Brock was out of Turnpike, Steve wouldn’t be able to go, to follow. There </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> an undercurrent, a pull that screamed at him from deep inside to take a chance, go with Bucky. It felt like Steve was being torn open from the inside. It was an impossible choice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon they were turning into the yard and Bucky didn’t hesitate, going straight for the shed where the bikes were hidden. And Steve, well Steve thought he’d have more time, so he did the only thing he could in the moment, he created </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Uncovering his Harley, the feel of Bucky’s heavy gaze on him made him look up into eyes so dark, stormy and full of questions he lost his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shrugged as Bucky walked closer to him, eyebrow raised, “I’m going with you of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly Bucky was in his face, his metal hand fisting the collar of Steve’s shirt, yanking him off balance, lips meeting in a frenzy, stealing what little air he had left in his lungs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling back, Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s, gaze swallowing Steve whole as they both inhaled heavily, the moment charged, “you don’t have to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Steve said and pressed forward, his lips meeting Bucky’s for a mere moment, “But I want to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck… Stevie, I -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shed door slamming open made them jump apart, Bucky’s words hanging in the air unfinished and Steve looked over to see Nat with nary a hair out of place and only the lightest sheen of pink on the cheeks to indicate any exertion, though it was clear she’d sprinted back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got something out of the guy who lives next door to Brock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know his neighbour?” Steve asked as he reattached the biofuel cells on both bikes, checking them over for damage or leaks, they were good. Bucky’s hand grazed his shoulder, before pressing lightly, the touch comforting, grounding in an uncertain moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I do now, I don’t think he likes me much. But he told me Brock took off west, towards the Dead City and he only left this morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s sharp breath of surprise at having something tangible, a lead, was a good sign. They had a destination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ, thanks Nat, that gives us a starting point at least,” Steve rolled his bike out into the open, and looked at the house and the small furry face peering out the window at them, barking. “Can you look after Cap for a few days?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nat gave him a look that was clearly asking if he was coming back and he hoped so, trying to convey it by clasping her arm and pulling her in tight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look after him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> yourself,” she whispered, then louder said, “Sam has got Riley looking out north, we have a contact down south and Sam is going east, just in case Brock went a different way - don’t worry, we’ll find him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky blinked rapidly a few times, then gave a soft smile, “thanks, Nat. I can’t start to -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then don’t,” she interrupted, leaving Steve’s side to give Bucky a half hug, and that stunned Steve more than anything so far that year. The ease at Nat giving affection to anyone other than Steve and Sam. Bucky was officially part of their rag-tag group and it pierced Steve’s heart, he couldn’t give this man up, he just couldn’t. But how could he ask him to stay?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky started his bike, stalling all the thoughts tumbling through Steve, the uncertainty of the future, what he should do and say, because first they had to find Brock, well attempt to. Then Steve would put his heart on the line, he just hoped Bucky would want to hear what he had to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They made it out of Turnpike's residential area half an hour later, Dead City looming up before them like a large carcass of humanity's past mistakes. Steve adjusted his goggles against the dust that had already started to kick up, Bucky behind him, following his lead once more through the twists and turns of the eroded road. The air was hot, sticky and Steve could feel the oppressive storm gathering on the horizon. It wasn’t a cluster, but the usual electric acid rain cloud, Steve knowing from gut feel alone that they wouldn’t have a huge amount of time, most likely only enough to get through to the other side, across the storms’ path, worn and corroded from years of abuse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A familiar orange glow hung over the world, casting shadows against the ground, the light blue of early morning gone between one blip and the next, Steve guessing it was early afternoon already. The day was getting away from them and he knew Bucky would be on edge, because Steve was on edge, and he didn’t have nearly as much riding on finding Brock as Bucky did. It was his personal feelings on the line, not revenge for his family, not finally getting the justice deserved for the atrocity that had befallen them. Although it was selfish, Steve couldn’t help the way his body and heart yearned for Bucky, for more, for anything Bucky could give.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe it was because he was distracted by thoughts of a future he had no right to hope for that he didn’t see it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rope, almost invisible in the poor lighting, was strung up across the road, tied off between two dilapidated poles, ripped into his chest and Steve was flung from his bike. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Harley skidded, sparks flying up into the air as it came to an abrupt stop, engine spluttering to its death. But Steve didn’t take a second to worry about the bike; his chest was on fire, the burn where he’d collided with the rope was an agony that sliced across his skin, and he groped at the area, hissing in immediate pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was skidding across the road, jumping off his bike and next to Steve in an instant, managing to miss the ambush by a hair's breadth. Steve coughed, grimacing as sharp lances of pain struck him to his core and suddenly Bucky was kneeling over him, pulling his head onto his lap, pressing a hand against his chest. When Bucky pulled back Steve saw the blood on his fingers and knew he was in bigger trouble than originally thought. Body trembling, Steve guessed he was going into shock. But through the infinite burn of hurt that assailed him, he looked up meeting Bucky’s wide, scared eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An angry yell assailed his ears and he looked over to see Brock standing on top of nearby debris.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking Barnes and Rogers, I should have known,” Rumlow spat on the ground, “You</span>
  <em>
    <span> assholes </span>
  </em>
  <span>are the reason that Pierce tore me a new one. Rogers, you’re always sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted, but it seems it’s finally caught up to you. And who knew how fucking hard it would be to kill a pathetic one armed man, I should have made sure you were dead myself, maybe I'll get lucky this time - if you can catch me,” he then disappeared over the lip down the other side, scrambling away and Steve couldn’t work out why Brock had set up an ambush in the Dead City. Did he know they’d be after him? How on earth could he have?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go,” Steve sucked in a breath, it was a little easier now, “Find him,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve…” Bucky looked helplessly down at him, “you’re -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Steve coughed, a bad idea as it seared heat across his front, “it’s not deep, looks worse than it is. Go!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he could see the utter look of devastation on Bucky’s face at the choice Steve took away, telling him to go. Steve smiled, and knew it was more of a grimace at the way Bucky’s eyes tracked the movement, the frown turning into resolve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m coming back for you, I’m not leaving here without you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Same, punk.” Steve rasped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then with the quickest press of lips to his forehead, Steve’s eyes closing at the sensation, Bucky was gone, up and over the nearest obstacle where Brock had been, running and jumping with his ever present limp, deeper into the city that held nothing but death and destruction from years past.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve attempted to sit up, unable to stop the groan as he winced, trying to work out if he could get his feet underneath him. It was a hard slog, almost impossible with the sheer amount of burning coursing through his body, but he did it, managing to sit up and push himself backwards until he hit something solid, to hold his weight upright, give him a chance to assess the damage. He’d told Bucky it wasn’t bad, but he actually didn’t know. It felt like the rope had gone deep enough to kiss his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking down he saw the line of seeping red through his torn t-shirt, but it had slowed, his bodies response to heal the trauma already at work and he hissed as he poked at the wound, knowing he was probably adding foreign crap and bacteria into it, but he had to get up, had to help Bucky. Because as he lay there, Steve was watching the storm clouds on the horizon, dark purple and angry, holding electrical pulses and acid rain, and it was headed directly towards them. They were right in its trajectory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stumbling up to a knee, Steve glanced around, sucking in shallow breaths, his bike was on it’s side, banged up, but luckily he could see the fuel cell intact and let out a tight sigh of relief, wincing as his chest pulsed against it, not happy he was exerting himself to get up. His body wanted him to lie down, sleep, heal properly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was as he moved sluggishly he saw another bike, broken down on the side of the road, it’s biofuel cell smashed by an errant rock - Brock’s bike. And knew that Brock had simply laid the trap to steal what he could from the next poor passerby. It was just chance that it was Steve and Bucky to get caught in it. Kismet. Meant to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve was glad Brock’s appalling plan hadn’t happened to anyone else, somebody with a smaller frame than Steve meant the injury could have proved fatal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A yell came from across the way and he forced his feet to comply, staggering unsteadily to them, vision whiting out as he almost collapsed, head spinning, and Steve waited for it to pass, eyes shut, fighting down the nausea and the sensation of toppling over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The acrid stench of the storm hung dense in the air and Steve took two small steps, each one jolting his chest, making his entire body throb and he gasped out. But Bucky. He was out there with Brock - </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, fighting in the Dead City, and even though Brock didn’t have his gang of counterparts, it must be weighing on Bucky’s mind that the last time they met out there, it didn’t end well for him. But both times Bucky had Steve, whether he knew it or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve stumbled up and over a large corroded cement block and halted at the sight before him, leaning on the surface to catch his breath. Not even a hundred yards away Brock and Bucky were locked in hand-to-hand combat, one would push forward, striking a blow, then dance back out of reach, the other then taking the offensive. It continued over and over, and Steve knew he couldn’t make it all the way to them and back again, not with the storm looming, they’d be lucky if they got out alive as it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Buck!” Steve cried out, but it was lost in the wind and he couldn’t get his throat to boom like it should, his body taking a blow that had incapacitated it, made it weak, lacking anything that could </span>
  <em>
    <span>assist</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched helplessly as the two figures continued to battle, neither of them taking any notice of the changing weather, the impending doom coming towards them all. They rained blows down on each other in a flurry of fists and feet, Steve taking another step forward and tried to yell again, this time his voice a little stronger, an edge of panic to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bucky!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He saw the sudden hesitation in Bucky’s steps, the way his brunette head whipped around towards Steve’s location, then Brock landed a blow to his left shoulder, right where his metal arm joined his body. Bucky’s pained yelp slammed across the space between them, but he didn’t falter, retaliating immediately. Steve glanced worriedly back up at the swirling clouds and tried again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Storm!” His voice hoarse from the scant few words he’d screamed into the air so far. He pointed upwards, chest screaming at the movement and knew Bucky had heard, or at least seen if the way he took two giant steps backwards, almost tripping over a large metal frame was any indication.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Bucky didn’t stop to run towards safety, towards Steve, he continued to fight Brock and Steve felt fear and exasperation well. He was completely helpless, trapped in his injured body - what could he do? He glanced around quickly, there was no shelter, even the few huge metal and concrete pylons wouldn’t offer enough against a storm where wind and acid whipped in every direction. They’d be dead through lack of oxygen or from their skin peeling off within ten minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet before Steve could despair too much, Bucky broke away, starting to sprint towards Steve, but so did Brock, and halfway back across the open space, Brock threw himself forward, tackling Bucky, bringing him down with a thud. Steve heard the grunt of surprised pain and started to climb down towards them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Bucky yelled, “Go!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve felt the words welling up, not even trying to stop them, screaming as loud as he could, “No, not without you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the men scrabbled across the ground, reduced to kneeing and punching at close quarters, an almighty crack of electricity filled the air, and the hair on Steve’s arms rose. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bucky, now! We </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go now!” The desperation in his voice came across clearly. Steve knew if he really did attempt to climb down and help Bucky, he wasn’t coming back up, not with the injury across his chest. Steve was already laboured in breath and getting back to the bike to ride out was going to take the last vestiges of energy he had. But Steve didn’t care if he got out alive, he had to ensure Bucky’s safety - that’s all that mattered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky launched another attack, both back on their feet, Bucky clearly attempting to move towards Steve, when he lashed out with his metal arm smashing it into Brock’s chest. The other man flew backwards, hitting the ground a few yards away, looking up holding his chest, sheer hate and fury framing his face. But instead of pressing his advantage, Bucky turned his back and came running for Steve. Relieved, Steve spun and started to slowly pick his way across the landscape to get back to the bikes, hoping Bucky was right behind him. Turning hurt, so he went on a little faith that he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hiss of impending rain filled Steve’s hearing as the wind started to barrel into him, making him sway across the road; dirt and particles lifting to dance in the sweeping gusts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t certain they could make it out of the Dead City in time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly Bucky burst up over the top of the debris, sliding down ungainly, the limp more pronounced as he skip-hopped his way over to his bike, but Brock - Brock was on his heels. Death and destruction painting his features in hate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve yelled out to warn Bucky, but a huge gust of wind stole the words once again and Steve fell onto his side from the force, the bike landing heavily across him and he stared up at the swirling clouds. Agony coating his vision in red, Steve noticed one singular droplet land next to his head, hissing as it hit the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time had run out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing against the steel frame pinning him, took every last ounce of strength Steve had left, feeling his wound ripping open further, blood flowing once more. But he got there in the end, to his feet, seeing Bucky fighting Brock off once more. He started his bike.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It spluttered into silence a second later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tried again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The third time he attempted it, Steve said every prayer he could remember under his breath, the Harley started and stayed on - barely. Revving it a few times, he glanced over to see Bucky now on his bike, screaming at Brock who was sprawled on the ground holding his leg, staring up at Bucky with contempt. The small knife sticking from Brock’s thigh must have been from Bucky’s bike, knowing that Bucky didn’t have time that morning to stash any on his person. Steve settled himself onto his own bike, taking a moment to catch his breath through gritted teeth, then rode closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking coward, Barnes, stand here and fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky looked to be two seconds away from throwing his bike down and taking up the challenge, but he didn’t, instead he yelled something that made Steve’s heart clench, “If you want to live Brock, jump on, ride out with us, we can’t survive the storm. Fuck, we might not get out as it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sheer compassion for the man who helped destroy Bucky’s life, who he’d just been fighting physically tooth and nail with, was astounding, and Steve was so painfully in love he knew he couldn’t keep it inside any longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Brock only sneered up at Bucky, “typical, wouldn’t even fight for your family, you left them to die alone - you know that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve sucked in a breath and watched as Bucky started to climb off his bike, the hateful words Brock spewed complete and utter bullshit, but Brock knew exactly what he was doing, what wounds he was picking at. And as another huge burst of energy from the sky slammed down nearby, shaking the very ground they stood on, Steve yelled, heart in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t Bucky, don’t listen. Come with me, I can’t do this alone, not anymore. I need you - I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another burst of wind so hard it kicked up a swirl of dust around them didn’t stop the sheer shock and disbelief on Bucky’s face, the slack jawed look he gave Steve. And Steve didn’t know what it meant, good or bad, didn’t have the time to decipher it, but he watched as Bucky started his bike and sat down, putting it into gear with relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brock - come on.” Bucky called once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Brock was on his feet heading towards a large pylon, going to seek his own shelter, ignoring their help. Steve sighed, knowing Brock was sealing his fate, but as it was, Bucky and he might not make it out alive either, they’d taken too long and Steve pulled his bandana up over his nose to breathe, the acid from the air on his tongue becoming too much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky rode up to the rope carefully, cutting it with another large knife sheathed in his bike’s saddle bag, Steve nodded at him, glad it was gone and wouldn’t catch anyone else unaware in the future. He didn’t even know what Brock’s game was, what he’d intended to do to the first person that was felled by his appalling trick. Steal their bike, ther fuel, leave them for dead? Brock was a piece of work and Steve knew he should feel bad about leaving him behind, but honestly, he was too worried about getting Bucky out first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gunning the bike he glanced back to see Bucky following, not as close as he’d like, but at least he was there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The road was generally fine to navigate on a normal day, a day where the wind wasn’t so strong it ripped the very handles from his grip, nor the impending acidic stench that infiltarted his nostrils, making him lightheaded. Add in the extra stress that was the pain slicing through his torso every time he was jerked in his seat, and it was almost impossible. He saw that Bucky had pulled his shirt up over his nose and knew he’d gift him a bandana </span>
  <em>
    <span>when</span>
  </em>
  <span> they got back to Steve’s farm. Because he refused to believe they wouldn’t make it, not now, not after everything they’d been through together. But if they didn’t make it, if they perished in the Dead City, at least Steve had spoken his truth, had told Bucky he loved him, and just those words had stopped Bucky from making a mistake and going after Brock. And he hoped that those few words would mean as much to Bucky as they did to Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As unsafe as it was, Steve increased his speed after he felt the sting of a raindrop hit his thigh, creating the smallest hole in his pants, his skin screaming in pain at just the one small droplet. He heard the whine of Bucky’s bike over the shrieking storm and kept his focus straight ahead, seeing the definitive line where Dead City ended, and hopefully the freedom from the storm beyond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They burst out into the plains less than five minutes later, the storm brewing behind them in intensity, but it was moving sideways, on it’s preordained pathway, not venturing out of the city, and Steve felt the vice-like grip of panic loosen around his chest, bringing on the actual pain of his injury, but they were out. Safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Riding for another few miles until they were well and truly out of danger, Steve pulled up his bike, looking back the way they’d just come from. Taking in his first real breath of relief, he let it out slowly with a hiss, thankful it wasn’t full of acid. Thankful that they got out - together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The city was in a haze of cloud, flashing lights and rain, the stench of the storm still strong, making Steve bunch his nose up, but he pulled down the bandana when Bucky pulled up close next to him. Their bikes idling as they watched the storm rip across the sky, the ground still unsteady under their feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brock…” Bucky started, his voice fading out, “I tried…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Steve said and reached over, gripping Bucky’s shoulder, ignoring his pain to squeeze tightly, to touch, to ensure that Bucky was okay. “I know you tried, but he made his decision.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky slumped, then looked at Steve, his eyes flicking between Steve’s intently, “what you said back -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to stay.” Steve interjected before he lost his nerve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, here. Here with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve,” Bucky whispered, his voice cracking and Steve had no idea what that meant, so he continued, making his case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I didn’t want you to go, before, I mean. The thought of watching you leave, to go out into the territories without me. I just…” Steve trailed off, letting his arm drop from Bucky’s shoulder and he swallowed tightly, “Now that your list is complete, that everyone has been brought to justice, I was hoping -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve,” Bucky said again, grabbing Steve’s hand back, lacing their fingers together, halting Steve’s babble of words that truly were not making good sense. “I was never going to leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Steve asked incredulously as the words sunk in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky pushed a strand of hair behind his ear with metal fingers, “honestly. If we didn’t find Brock in the Dead City, or if the others didn’t find him anywhere either. I wouldn’t have chased him across the country.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Steve breathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really.” Bucky squeezed his fingers quickly, “And I mean, if you’ll have me, I'd like to stay here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With me?” Steve clarified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Bucky said with feeling, and Steve felt his stomach drop, “with you </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, how are you real?” Steve pulled at Bucky’s hand until he almost fell off his bike, but Steve met him halfway in a kiss, filled with passion and promise, before pulling away too soon, the pain in his chest stopping him before they went too far. “I love you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too, Stevie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with bright eyes, a full heart and a wonderful future to look forward to, Steve reluctantly let Bucky’s hand go and they headed back to the farm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Phew.... ❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is it - the end - the place we say goodbye to this version of these boys and their crazy messed up world.</p>
<p>Honestly - you've all been so brilliant through this, the support, the gasping at scenarios, the hating of Pierce and Brock and the sheer love we all share for these two dorks. And Cap - we can't forget the outpouring of love for this little hero &lt;3</p>
<p>Thank you a million times over for everything, every page read, kudoed, commented and bookmarked, you've all made this journey so much fun and as a writer I've loved every interaction!</p>
<p>Next AU in the extravaganza is Hospital (and my version of Dr Steve) - but I have potentially a couple of other one-shots before that - watch this space!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve hissed as Bucky cleaned the wound on his chest, the low chuckle he gave at Steve’s discomfort making him scowl. Luckily the rope had dug in only on the left side, it needed a few stitches but not nearly as many as Steve had initially thought, it still bled enough until it looked like he’d need a transfusion though. Thankfully the pain had dulled to a constant weak ache over the initial sharp bite of agony, the trauma to the skin secondary to the harsh muscle injury as he was yanked off his bike. Steve knew he was also lucky that he didn’t suffer any back or neck injuries, though he was pretty sore all over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched as Bucky expertly stitched him up with an air of confidence, and to be honest it was making Steve hot, he liked competency and Bucky had it in spades.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as his thoughts wandered, he soon realised Bucky had finished and was dabbing the injury with hot water and a clean cloth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey watch it, I’m in pain here,” he snapped fondly, quite enjoying the attention Bucky was giving his naked chest, split skin aside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So why are you smiling then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s smile didn’t diminish, instead his gaze captured Steve’s and he couldn’t stop the soft smile spreading across his own face. He liked that Bucky was there with him, quietly tending to him, making sure he was okay, and that he wasn’t going anywhere when it was all over. Bucky was staying, with Steve, and it sent a thrill through his body. He got to have this. He got to have Bucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m smiling, because we’re alive. We’re together, and I don’t have to leave you,” Bucky said, voicing everything that Steve had been thinking, and it made him realise how in tune they were, how absolutely perfect they could be together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Bucky leant down to dab at the wound again, Steve cupped Bucky’s cheek, rubbing a thumb across the stubbled skin, loving the texture, loving the way Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, before he looked directly up at Steve. “No, you don’t ever have to leave. This is your home now. With me and Cap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve,” Bucky breathed then halted. Steve waited, thumb still moving up and over Bucky’s skin, “I haven’t had a home in more years than I can remember. These last few weeks have made me realise how much I craved that, but it was more than just having a roof over my head, company and meals everyday. It was you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one who made it a home, you and Cap, a home I wanted to live in.” Bucky went quiet again, “You know that I’m damaged goods, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So am I.” Steve replied instinctually, still reeling over Bucky’s words, but also knowing how hard it was to allow yourself to want good things, especially if you didn’t believe you deserved them and even harder to accept them when they happened. But Bucky deserved happiness. And so did Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not to my extent, you’re not,” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and turned his head to press his lips softly to Steve’s palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Choosing his words carefully, Steve caught Bucky’s bright blue-grey eyes in his again, willing all the love he felt to reflect out of his own, Bucky took in a sharp surprised breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We all are, none of us are unscathed. You can’t live anywhere in this world and have had a perfect life, without consequences and bad moments, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>, bad timing and just plain bad luck. We make the most of it and if we are lucky, we find someone to make things a little less bad. And Bucky?” - Bucky stared back at Steve, his eyes wide with the smallest tremble to his cheek that Steve could feel under his fingertips, and he nodded at Steve to go on - “You don’t just make my life a little less bad, you’ve managed to come in and turn it on it’s head. I feel like I’d never experienced true happiness, life in technicolour, until I found you,” Steve’s gaze didn’t waver, “And now that I have you, I don’t intend on letting you go. I hope you know that. Warts and all - I’m all in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a shaky inhale, Bucky’s smile beamed, shining through his fears and he fell forward, kissing Steve who couldn’t help cry out as Bucky pressed against the stitches a little too hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” Bucky apologised, but it didn’t stop his grin, though the pressure lessened so Steve could breath again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve chuckled, “for the record, I’m thrilled you’re staying, and Cap will be too, when we go pick him up next week and tell him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s eyes shone, “I love you so much. I hope you know that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s chest swelled at the words, still slightly unbelieving that he was hearing them directly from Bucky’s mouth. “I do know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting back, Bucky looked shy all of a sudden, “Even though I wouldn’t admit it at the time, I think I knew I was too attached to you when you tried to protect me from Rollins, lied outright that there was anyone here, even though we both knew he saw me. Then you told Sam you’d not found anyone out in the Dead City. You protected me, without knowing me. I knew the moment I woke up you were different from anyone I’d ever met, but I just didn’t realise how much you’d change my life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve basked in Bucky’s words. Hearing how Bucky started to fall for him was a salve, not only for his head but for his heart, knowing it was where it all began for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I knew I was gone the moment Cap took to you, without even knowing it, you calmed me, made me feel not so alone and it wasn’t just about having a body here, it was because it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Jesus I wanted you, from the moment you opened your eyes, I just didn’t realise I’d fall for you too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky pressed forward for a less intense kiss, and Steve drew him in closer, uncaring at the twinge in his chest, wanting Bucky near, filling his mouth, taking what he’d thought he’d lost for good. Having Bucky with him, in his arms was all Steve ever wanted. Reluctantly, Bucky pulled away with a wry chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And as much as I’d like to ride you right here on the sofa, I really need to clean these stitches off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t we do both?” Steve whined, indicating towards his half hard dick, “I want you to ride me, Buck. I want to be deep inside of you, I want to make you scream.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn it Steve, no. Don’t distract me.” Bucky closed his eyes, nostrils flaring as he breathed deeply and Steve smirked, knowing what his words were doing, but they were both filthy, exhausted, and really did need a shower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>After </span>
  </em>
  <span>our shower,” Bucky continued and Steve liked the sound of the '</span>
  <em>
    <span>our'</span>
  </em>
  <span> in that sentence, “I’m going to put that stinky balm crap you continually assaulted my body with on your wound. You know - smelt like old socks?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ungrateful -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky cut him off with another kiss, laughing into it before taking his time, nipping at Steve’s lips, leaving him a panting mess within minutes. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the fact that this was his new normal, Bucky kissing him on his sofa, kissing him with intent, living with him, never leaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I’m taking you to bed and we are going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span> for two days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve grinned, but for some reason the near miss they’d just escaped smacked into him and he grabbed Bucky’s hands in between his; one metal, one flesh, both belonging to the man Steve never wanted to let go of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t ever scare me like that again though,” Steve pleaded as he pulled back, watching Bucky frown in confusion, “the way you almost went after Brock, sacrificed yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You pulled me back, Steve. I have a feeling you’ll always be able to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope so, pal - because it’s you and me now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Until the end of the world?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Until the end of the world.” Steve echoed back with certainty.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve healed nicely over the next few days, and while he rested, Bucky took on the lion’s share of the chores around the farm. Bruce and Pietro only managed to do so much while Steve, Cap and Bucky had disappeared to Turnpike, plus they had their own farms to run, though Steve was grateful for the help they gave. At least his animals and algae hadn’t perished, though his house had taken a bit of a battering from the wind and there was a fair bit of mending and cleaning up to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But although Steve was gaining strength back everyday, Bucky still wouldn’t let Steve take control in </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of the bedroom, as they'd previously explored, not to say they didn’t fool around, they did - a lot. Yet Steve hadn’t been buried in Bucky’s heat for days, and it was starting to agitate him. He felt fine, and he wasn't angry, not at all - but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting janky around the edges, Bucky’s mouth and hands were spectacular, but no amount of pleading would convince Bucky to take it further. The excuse always that he wanted Steve to relax, not overdo it while his muscles and ribs were repairing. Steve was starting to wonder if Bucky was stalling on purpose. Drawing it out until Steve exploded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Steve found out that he was right, not even one night later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was on his knees before Steve, licking up the length of his dick, Bucky's fingers featherlight across the sensitive skin, teasing down to the base, then tickling up, swirling his tongue around the head, Steve taking in small gasps, thrusting his hips forward, searching for more friction, more heat, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Buck,” he pleaded, “please, I need more…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More hey? Maybe you should just </span>
  <em>
    <span>take</span>
  </em>
  <span> it then?” Bucky sassed back and Steve looked down to see his eyes alight, and finally caught on to the one-sided game Bucky had been playing for days. But Bucky engulfed him before he could retaliate, sucking hard once, then popping back off, fingers dancing up his dick again and Steve groaned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could have just spun you over and taken control </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> night, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky nodded, mouth once again deliciously full of Steve's dick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I could have thrown you down onto any surface and fucked you using my hands, tongue or dick?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s eyes darkened and he nodded again slower, his tongue swirled magically and Steve shuddered out a moan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ… fair warning, I’m going to do that now, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soft desperate noise that left Bucky’s throat was needy, telling Steve everything he wanted to hear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve was up off the side of the bed, yanking Bucky to his feet by his arm, pressing him against the nearest wall within a second. Bucky gasped as his back hit the solid surface, face going slack as Steve attacked his neck, nipping at the skin, pressing just so on his throat in the way that made Bucky a boneless, quivering heap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slithered his hand down Bucky's nakedness and grasped his dick, finding it hard and weeping from the attention he’d been giving Steve for the past twenty minutes. Flicking his thumb over the small slit at the tip, Steve coated the pad completely, before bringing it up to his lips. Devouring the look and feel of Bucky vibrating under his hands, the push against his body, the intense stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re getting messy already sweetheart, look at this all over my thumb. Can I taste you?" Bucky let out an almost inhumane noise and nodded, eyes hooded as he watched Steve stick his thumb into his mouth. "Oh, you taste so good, always do, I'm going to suck you now, get you all wet and excited before sliding my fingers deep into you, get you ready to take my dick. Do you want that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"God... yes. Please - I want that. So bad..." Bucky stammered, and Steve loved this man so much, the way he could be sassy and in control in one moment, and in the next, Steve's needy sweet thing, who couldn't form a coherent sentence. He was stunning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve dropped to his knees and didn’t wait, he grabbed the base of Bucky’s dick and took him down in one swift gulp, Bucky jerking into his throat and Steve hummed around him, eliciting another litany of swear words from above him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking up he caught Bucky’s eyes, and started to suck him down, using his hands and tongue, ensuring that there was always contact, a slide, a suck, a lick, </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> happening to make Bucky’s head fall back and hit the wall, his hands landing in Steve’s hair for support. He wanted Bucky to feel every sensation, to be wrapped up in the pleasure that Steve gave him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sliding a finger into his mouth alongside Bucky’s dick to wet it up, he then pressed it against an already loosened hole, able to slide in three fingers immediately, Bucky’s ass slick and lubed up. Steve sat back, disbelief and pure unadulterated love and joy at how lucky he was slamming into him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bucky?” he questioned, voice rough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He received a hum in response and a cheeky smirk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This man</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to kill me sweet thing, you know that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not yet I won’t, I need you deep inside of me before that happens. Again and again, for many long years to come.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s heart soared at the words, the idea that he would be able to, that they didn’t need to rush, that they had a lifetime filled him and he growled possessively and stood up, picking Bucky up with him and turned, throwing him on the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if that’s the case.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grabbing Bucky’s leg he pulled it up onto his shoulder and without any additional prep other than to quickly smother his dick with lube, he pushed into Bucky’s tightness. Bucky had prepped himself well, but was still on the right side of tight, just how they liked it. When Steve was finally buried deep, he took a moment, kissing Bucky’s calf muscle, staring down at Bucky who was already a debauched mess. Cheeks ruddy, eyes glazed and soft pants escaping his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so damn gorgeous, and you’re all mine. You hear that,</span>
  <em>
    <span> mine</span>
  </em>
  <span> - no one elses?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve nipped at his leg when Bucky didn’t respond, teeth biting and Bucky exhaled tightly, a moan leaving him a second later. “Yours, no one elses, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Just yours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pleased, Steve gave Bucky a toothy grin and started to thrust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t go easy, he didn’t let Bucky adjust too much, he just gave Bucky what his body was asking for, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them needed. Being inside of Bucky was something he’d never tire of, the heat, the tightness, the way he responded to every movement, the way he lost coherent thought when Steve pushed in as far as possible, then stayed there, grinding in circles, reaching deep inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaning down, Steve loosely held Bucky’s dick in his fist as he thrust hard, each snap of his hips moving his hand by default, jerking Bucky through fucking into him. Bucky squirmed and cried out beautifully, the long line of his neck right there, so leaning over him, changing the angle slightly, Steve ground into him, one hand tighter around Bucky’s dick and the other clasped around the base of Bucky’s neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s eyes snapped open, desire and pure heat filled them, the pupil so blown Steve faltered at the beauty of it, getting lost. The confused whine Bucky let out, made Steve shake himself back into the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fucked Bucky hard and long in that position, pressing closer with every long drag of his dick, feeling like he was screwing Bucky into the mattress, pushing down so hard it would leave an imprint. Sensing Bucky was close, Steve started to jerk him with intent, knowing his own orgasm was building, the moment too intense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve… Oh, shit, you’re gonna…” Bucky cried out, “I’m gonna.. god, I love you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You too sweetheart, love you so much.” Steve punctuated each word with a thrust until Bucky’s eyes flew open, holding Steve’s as he came all over his stomach and Steve’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he jerked and clenched around him, Steve didn’t relent, just kept slamming into Bucky, staring down at what was his, his heart, his entire life and only after a few minutes, just as Bucky was on the cusp of over sensitisation, Steve came. Hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slumping over Bucky, Steve took in gasps of breath, the moment crashing over him, sucking his energy, then he felt the soft press of lips on his forehead and he looked up. Bucky right there, smiling and sated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Steve responded, then kissed Bucky deeply, tongue seeking in the wet warmth, sighing when Bucky wrapped his arms up around his neck and kissed him back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a while of kissing softly, Steve finally pulled out and went to get them something to clean up with, returning to find Bucky with a hand over his eyes and the biggest smile he’d ever seen on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” he asked with a chuckle, wondering what inspired such a grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky turned towards him, dropping his hand and watched as Steve cleaned him carefully, checking him over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just happy, s’all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over them both and pulled Bucky into his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Same. Like you wouldn’t believe.” Kissing the crown of Bucky’s head, he leant over and switched off the bedside lamp and inhaled the honey scent that clung to Bucky’s hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Happy, content and sated.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ride back to Turnpike was slower, especially when they hit the Dead City, then by extension, the place where they’d fought Brock. The area unassuming, the rope having been burnt away by the storm, the bike a rotting carcass already. They didn’t stop, but slowed. It had been almost a week, and if Brock had survived - which wasn’t likely, unless he was picked up - he would have perished from the elements.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve knew they had to address what had happened, tell the Guardians that were left and hadn’t been dismissed dishonorably to come out and look for him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> there was anything to find.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took the road in slowly, knowing countless others had travelled that very path since they’d been through last, but he was a little jumpy, a little cautious - extremely warranted after what had happened to him. His chest at least had healed, leaving only a small line that would scar. Bucky kissing it every night before they went to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve was the luckiest man on the planet. He never wanted to imagine what life would have been like if he’d not seen the glint of metal that day that led him directly to Bucky. It wasn’t worth the stress and worry, because he did, and now they were together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon they were pulling up at Sam and Nat’s, and Steve hadn’t even got off his bike before an excited ball of fur had launched itself at him. Steve picked Cap up laughing, letting him lick his face, saying hello properly, before his little body wriggled so hard Steve placed him back on the ground, only to watch him attack Bucky with jumps and small yaps, Bucky smiling so wide it by all rights should be outlawed. It made Steve’s stomach swoop, the way he picked Cap up to shower him with love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The back door opened and Nat stood there, leaning on the railing, grinning at them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve found it hard to drag his eyes away from Bucky though, especially at the words he was saying direct to Cap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You coming home with us, boy? You want that, you want pats every day? You want me to move in, live with you? But first, do I have your approval to be with your dad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, Buck.” Steve husked, emotions welling, and he wasn’t that guy. Not really, but there was something so wholesome at the way Bucky spoke to Cap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky looked over at Steve, and smiled knowingly, like he knew</span>
  <em>
    <span> exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what buttons he was pushing. Steve would make him pay with tears later on. Good tears, tears from stringing him along on a tight line of teasing and edging until Bucky begged for release. But first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tea?” Nat called, interrupting their little reunion, and that’s when Steve heard it. A small noise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nat? You didn’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She just grinned and Steve ran around to the back door, scooping up the small ball of pure white fluff that was trying its hardest to bark. The puppy was only a few months old and Steve was already in love with the new addition to their group.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve, meet Winter,” Nat said proudly, grinning at Steve and the way Cap came running back to jump up at Steve, get his attention too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Winter, how you doing…” Steve hesitated, then finished, “girl?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I now have two girls to contend with.” Sam said when they walked in, already putting water on to boil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And they both have you wrapped around their little fingers - paws, already.” Steve remarked when he saw the way Sam’s eyes softened as Nat scritched Winter behind the ear, grabbing her from Steve and placing her on the floor, watching as she and Cap tumbled around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not true,” He replied with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They caught up over the next few hours, Steve and Bucky staying only for one night before going back home, another Cluster storm brewed on the horizon and they needed to be back to ensure the farm was ready. Plus Steve wanted to get home with his complete family, start living his life as part of Bucky’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the day they travelled across Turnpike together, dropping off medications; the last stop at Wanda’s with the latest book Steve had transcribed, having not had time to do many in between everything that had happened. But it was a short one, and he knew it would be popular with the kids.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve, you brought me a choose your own adventure, this is fabulous.” Wanda beamed and gave him a quick hug, Bucky watching on fondly, having helped Steve transcribe it over that week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was the storyline they enjoyed, a tale of intrigue, spies and looking out for those closest to you. There was also a dog called Scottie throughout it and the picture Steve had painted for the cover may have been inspired by another small pup named Cap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later that night as they curled around each other, having quietly got off, making it into a game to try and get the other gasp out loud at Sam and Nat’s, Steve pulled Bucky into his arms, kissing along his jaw, making Bucky squirm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy?” Steve asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ecstatic,” Bucky responded, gripping Steve tightly as he kissed further down, until Steve was licking and nipping at his throat, tearing a small noise from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he started to move his way down, earning a small moan from Bucky, Steve grinned and stared up at Bucky, whose face was full of love, happiness and awe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna make you scream out before the night is over, sweetheart. That’s a promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, Steve.” Bucky whispered as Steve continued downwards making good on his promise, until Bucky had to stuff the pillow in his mouth to stop the noises that punched from his gut.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I win.” Steve whispered smugly an hour later, Bucky’s red, tear streaked and exhausted face laying on his chest, staring up at him like he was a god, and also a little like he wanted to kill Steve. But he’d apologise to Nat and Sam the next morning if they’d heard anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve followed it up though with a tender kiss, to his hair, “love you so much, punk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking jerk, but love you too.” Bucky chuckled, trailing his hand lower until he grasped Steve’s dick tight. “But paybacks a bitch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Steve took everything Bucky gave and more, willingly, and would continue to do so for the rest of their lives. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because they now had that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And always would.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm on the below if you ever want to chat about anything!</p><p>Tumblr -<a href="https://kalee60.tumblr.com"> kalee60</a><br/>Twitter - @kalee60_</p></blockquote></div></div>
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